Love Is Careless in Its Choosing
by nubianamy
Summary: A year after they parted ways, Adam Lambert is back in Kurt's life... and this time, he's auditioning for Kurt's band. Starkurt/Kelliot, Adam/Kurt/Puck, Klaine, Blinn, Kinn. Concurrent with season 5. Donutverse "futurefic," spoilers abound. Dom/sub, discipline, polyamory.
1. Chapter 1

_(Author's note: this story is canon with all previous Donutverse stories. As such, it contains spoilers. If you've never read the Donutverse, it presupposes a prior relationship between Kurt, Puck and Adam Lambert, as well as Finn/Kurt/Puck and Kurt/Blaine. Warnings in this chapter for references to Dom/sub and discipline, and for discussion of Finn's death. All other elements may appear to be canon but should be examined closely. Spoilers through 5x04, including heavy quoting from some scenes, mixed in with original dialogue. You can bet there'll be smut, and soon. Enjoy — amy)_

* * *

_Nothing's too cool to take me from you  
New York is not just a tan that you'll never lose  
Love is the new denim or black  
Skeleton guns or wedding bells in the attic  
Get Ginger ready, climb in the El Camino front  
Won't poke holes in the seats with my heels  
'Cause that's where we make love_

_- Lady Gaga, "Marry the Night"_

**May 2012 (end of Kurt and Noah's senior year), West Hollywood**

"Try this," Adam urged, opening his mouth. Obediently, Kurt opened his own, and Adam grinned before tucking the morsel of mushroom between his lips.

Kurt groaned, applying a little more friction with his tongue than was necessary to clean off every drop of sauce. "God." His eyes rolled up into his head. "Noah's outdone himself again."

"Would you expect any less for your birthday?" He gestured at the table, set for three. "Have a seat. There's something I need to ask you before I wake Noah up."

Kurt lowered himself gingerly into Adam's kitchen chair, appreciating the cushion even more than he had the day before. It may have been an entirely necessary paddling, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to feel its aftereffects. "I'm all ears."

Adam sat across from him, his body alive with tension. It was that more than anything else that made Kurt sit up and take notice, because Adam didn't get nervous about _anything._

"Honey," he began, reaching for Kurt's hand. Kurt took it, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. Adam smiled in appreciation. "I'm so glad the two of you came to visit."

"Me, too," Kurt said. "We've both been looking forward to it for weeks. And especially now that Noah's certain he's graduating, and — well, I wasn't happy to hear I wasn't getting into NYADA, but this was a real comfort to know I would at least get to see you for a few days before the end of the school year."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It's — well. You know I've already asked Noah to move out here to be with me. I'm fairly certain he's decided to say yes."

Kurt nodded. Noah had been a free agent for some time now, and although it hurt to think of him living so far away, that had always been part of their plan: to do the things they needed to do after school, before coming back together as a family. Now that things with Finn hadn't worked out as expected, it was comforting to imagine coming to visit both Noah _and_ Adam at the same time. "I told him that was okay. That he could make his own decisions about that."

"Kurt… you could come with him."

Kurt opened his mouth to answer and found himself at a loss. "You — you want me to move to California?"

"Why not? There's nothing keeping you from it now. No school obligations." Adam was starting to build up a head of steam. "Your father has Carole and Sarah. Blaine has one more year of school. There's no reason you couldn't move in with us. With me." He paused, eyes alight, and reached into his pocket. He drew out a delicately carved filigree gold band and held it, poised, between his fingers.

"Adam," Kurt breathed, staring at the ring. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest.

"Prop 8 made it illegal, but whatever, I don't care about that." He waited expectantly, gazing into Kurt's eyes. "Marry me, Kurt."

"I can't." The answer came right away, no thinking required. He felt more horrible having said it.

Adam lowered the ring slowly, his smile dropping away along with it.

"You… okay." Adam let out an unhappy laugh. "That was unexpected. I really thought… haven't we talked about this? With Finn out of the picture, didn't you want —?"

"I did. I do." Kurt hung on to Adam's hands. "God, I love you so much, and Noah — the three of us, together, it would be amazing. I can't say I won't ever want that with you. I just don't think I'm ready. I turned nineteen _this week_. There's so much I want to do, to learn about the world. I _want_ to live in New York, Adam! If I'm going to marry you, I want to be able to say yes to you with a whole heart." He reached across the table, coming up on both feet to touch Adam's face. "Please understand this isn't any fault of yours. I'm crazy about you, just as much as I ever was. I'm not saying no. I'm saying —"

"Kurt." Adam smiled, the hurt apparent on his face. "You're saying no."

"I'm saying _someday."_ He shook his head, feeling desperate for Adam to believe him. To think that he could hurt Adam that way, that he could have — He blinked back tears.

"Hey." Adam's face softened, and he walked around to Kurt's side of the table to take him in his arms. He held him while Kurt shook. "Honey, it's — you're all right. You have the right to say no. I'm disappointed, yes, but I know you still love me. I know that." He kissed the tears on Kurt's cheeks, which just made him cry more. "Don't be scared."

"But you want it so much," Kurt sobbed. "I can tell. This is what you want, and I'm not ready, and — and you and Noah are going to move on without me."

Adam didn't deny it. Kurt appreciated that. He closed his eyes, trying to lose himself in the sensation of Adam's hand, stroking his hair.

"You get to have a chance to be on your own. That's good. Maybe someday I'll ask you again. Or maybe you'll ask me. We'll just have to see what happens. Keep being honest with me, honey, and — and don't forget about me?"

The plea was a little too anxious to feel good to Kurt, but he nodded fervently. Of course he wouldn't forget about Adam. "I love you."

"I love you too, honey." Adam kissed him once more, a little perfunctorily, and held him out at arm's length with a brisk smile. His own eyes were dry. "Now, let's go uncuff our beautiful boy, and have your birthday dinner."

* * *

**May 2013 (episode 5x04), Bushwick District, Brooklyn, New York**

"I think I want to start a band." Kurt propped his arm behind his head, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling of their loft as he held the phone to his ear. "Do you think that's a crazy idea?"

"Even if it is, it's an exciting one," said Blaine. "I'm sure you'd love fronting a band."

"I don't know if I want to _front_ one, exactly, so much as collaborate with other people to create one. I was thinking a Madonna cover band would be fantastic."

"Mmmm. That's kind of limiting, isn't it? I bet you could do more if you expanded your focus. You're more Gaga than that." Blaine sighed. "You're a Gaga, I'm a Katy."

"You're so much more than a Katy, Blaine," Kurt assured him.

"No, but — thank you, but — I mean, I _like_ things sweet and familiar and comforting."

Kurt grinned. "Like handcuffs?"

"Yeah," Blaine said dreamily. "Like that. Anyway, we have to sing a Gaga song for Glee, because we're the Katys, and the Gagas are doing a Katy song? I was thinking it would be fun to do your version of Hair. Remember, you told me about that? But then I thought it might be too much like a Katy song already…"

"Have you listened to Gaga's new album yet? It's brilliant. Timothy sent Sarah some demo tracks in the winter, but the post-production work is really inspired. You guys should sing Do What U Want. Would you get Sarah or somebody else on the A/V team to record your performance for me? I'd really love to see what you create."

"I think Unique's already got it hooked up to stream it live on the Internet. Oh — I forgot to tell you!" He groaned. "We're up against _Road Explosion_ from Fort Wayne this year for Nationals. God, do you think we should just forfeit now?"

"Blaine, this is no different from competing against Vocal Adrenaline. Don't make the mistake we did to get into a funk about it. New Directions could still win."

"But they're practicing _all the time, _and their budget is —"

"Blaine."

Blaine responded to his Voice over the phone as quickly as he would have in person. It made Kurt shiver to hear it.

"You can do this. Those resources you have inside yourself, they're not limited to labels. Use the group's assets. Highlight Jake's dancing, Unique's voice. _You_."

"Yeah?" Blaine sounded so tentative. Kurt wished he could just wrap him up in a hug.

"I wish I could be there to convince you."

"Um… yeah." He heard Blaine's voice go a little breathless. "You can be very convincing with that tawse."

"Soon. Very soon, now. I love you."

They hadn't come to any firm conclusion about what would happen once school was out, but Kurt was certain he'd at least find a way to get Blaine out to New York for his birthday. Without anyone at home to watch over Blaine anymore — and Kurt was not going to start thinking about that, or he'd start crying again — Kurt felt even more responsible for his well-being. It had been intimidating to think about being the only one caring for him, especially earlier that year when Blaine had been so very needy and fragmented.

But Blaine had grown tremendously since the winter. There wasn't anything Kurt could attribute it to other than time and maturity, but he wasn't complaining. He was sure he never would have said yes to Blaine's proposal if Blaine hadn't shown such capacity.

Even so, it was a weighty prospect, the idea of a being Blaine's Top. It wasn't the dynamic he preferred with Blaine. Doing it at Dalton had been enough to convince him of that.

For a moment, he let himself give into the morass of regret and loss that swallowed him whenever he thought about Finn, and buried his face in the couch, crying as quietly as he knew how. _Who's left to take care of me?_ he wanted to wail. _Why do I have to be the strong one? _

But he knew the answer. It was just the way it was. The closest he'd come to finding another potential boyfriend, since he and Adam had broken up, had been when he'd dated Adam Crawford — and hadn't _that_ been weird, saying Adam's name and seeing another man's face respond — but in the end, Adam had just been too vanilla for him. Kurt knew himself well enough by now to be sure he needed certain things from another man, and he wasn't willing to go to a professional Dom for any of those services; they were too much about trust and devotion for him to put them in the hands of a stranger. No, if he was ever going to submit to another man again, it was going to have to be someone who loved him, and whom he loved in return.

_And how likely am I to find one of those?_ He had to wonder. Blaine might be fine with him being poly in theory, but in actual practice, it wasn't easy to meet people who were interesting, trustworthy, attractive and matched his kinks — and who didn't actually mind that he was already engaged to another man. He'd complained to Santana more than once about the number of people who _said_ they were poly, but were really just serial monogamists in disguise.

"Kurt, can I borrow the silk scarf with the lilies on it?" Rachel's voice preceded her arrival into the sitting area, but she stopped when she saw Kurt's red eyes and the tissue in his hand. She gave him a small smile. "One of those days?"

"Yeah," he said, and it didn't come out too wobbly. Finn was a topic that was both familiar and fraught with complications for the two of them. They hadn't yet found a way to talk about him without one of them crying, but at the very least, he could be sure Rachel understood. She offered her arms, and he accepted them gratefully.

"I know it'll be a while before it feels easier." Kurt took a long, slow breath. "I'm still mostly in avoiding mode."

"You and Blaine both," she agreed. "I don't know if I'm grateful or frustrated, but… he seems to be moving on so _easily."_

Kurt waited several moments before responding. "I think Blaine's grief will come out in… different ways."

There wasn't anything about their history that Rachel didn't already know, but it was still strange, talking about _what they did_ with her. Kurt knew that she'd done much of it with Finn, but as far as Kurt knew, she hadn't looked for it from anyone else since Finn had set her free at the train station in Lima. Things had definitely changed between the two of them when Rachel had turned eighteen in December, and had finally learned who her father was. That had been a hell of an upheaval. But after the funeral, it seemed like most of that had been forgiven.

Kurt stepped away from Rachel, putting on a needless brave face. "All right. I'd better get ready for work. There's something I want to run by you on our way into the city."

* * *

_"The theme of the evening, pretty much, is love. And it's all sides of love. Sometimes love can break your heart. Sometimes it sucks, love. But if we didn't know heartache, we wouldn't know the real stuff, true love. And I think in order to hold on to that true love and make it work, sometimes you just have to ask the right questions."_

_- Adam Lambert, Glam Nation tour, 2011_

The first thing Kurt did when he got home from the audition — _audition, my ass,_ he thought furiously; _whatever the hell that was, it wasn't an audition _— was call Blaine. He barely said three words to Santana after Adam left the studio, although she had _plenty_ of words for him. There was too much going on in his head, and he was pretty sure if he tried to process it in front of Santana or Rachel, he was going to break down screaming or crying, or both.

He went right to his bed and sat down, grasping his own arms, trying desperately to hold on to his sanity.

"Hey, babe," Blaine said, cheerful as always. "How'd it go? Did anyone show up?"

"_Yes," _he snapped. "Someone _familiar._ Someone I know _intimately."_ He was going to give himself TMJ from all the teeth-clenching. "_Adam."_

"He wants to join _your_ band now? I thought he kicked you out of Adam's Apples when he found out we were engaged."

"No. Not Adam Crawford."

There was a stricken pause. "Oh my god. He — he didn't."

"He most sure as hell _did,"_ Kurt moaned. "Blaine, he showed up in full regalia, this stunning sparkling top hat and tails, and — and sang _Gaga. _He blew Dani and Santana away."

"And you," Blaine added.

He scowled. "What?"

"Kurt, no matter how surprised you were, don't tell me part of you wasn't completely thrilled to be that close to Adam again. And _singing?_ That man does not have an inside voice." Blaine sounded positively blazé about the whole thing. "How did Adam explain wanting to join your band?"

"He's going by a stage name. Starchild. It was —" Kurt huffed reproachfully. "Blaine, this is about our engagement."

"What? How do you know?"

"Because he sang _freaking Marry the Night."_ Kurt drew out each syllable, pointing at the floor for emphasis, even though nobody was there to see him do it. "Some coincidence. Goddamn fishnet gloves."

"Kurt…" The gentle, reasonable way Blaine spoke his name, it made Kurt want to fall apart right there. "You still love him."

"I don't even _know_ him, Blaine. We've barely talked at all this year."

Blaine sounded like he wasn't even listening. "I bet he was amazing, though."

"I told him it wasn't a fit. Santana thinks I'm insane, of course." He scrubbed at his face with his hand. "God. What could I tell her? I can't do this."

"Oh, Kurt," he sighed. "What did Adam do, when you turned him down?"

"He looked… angry." Kurt couldn't have erased the expression from his mind if he'd tried. "I also told him, if he was willing to tone down his look, maybe I'd reconsider."

"Tone down his — you mean stay a secret?"

"How am I going to keep _Adam Lambert_ a secret, Blaine?" Kurt hollered. Blaine laughed, which just made Kurt feel more frustrated and powerless.

"Kurt, I'm just going to say this once. I won't interfere with your relationships with other people, you know I won't. But I can also see how much you're hurting — how much you _need_ this."

"Need what?" As soon as he snapped out the words, Kurt felt himself flush. _God._ "Adam and I haven't done that for almost a year. I — there's no _way_ I could expect him to —"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Blaine sounded incredulous. "Okay, Kurt. I'm really bad at this, but… I'm going to have to pull out the big guns. Go to the piano and play it."

Kurt didn't even bother to play dumb. "I don't even — I haven't played that in _months._"

"I know that when you play it, it's because you miss him. Let me listen, okay?"

He could have told himself it was for Blaine, that he was being persuasive. He could have grumbled about being pushed to do something he absolutely wasn't ready for. But Kurt's feet moved of their own accord toward the electric piano on its stand in the corner. He set the phone down without hanging up. When he sat down on the bench and placed his hands on the keys, it was like the entire manuscript of the song he'd written for Adam was there in front of his eyes. He was crying by the time he reached the second arpeggio.

When he picked the phone two minutes later — he'd rushed the ending, but he knew Blaine wasn't going to harp on him about it — he didn't feel angry anymore.

"How did you know?" he wanted to demand, but his state of mind precluded more yelling. "How did you know that would —"

"Because I sang _Sanctuary_ for Finn. Because I sang _Teenage Dream_ for Puck. I _know_ how this feels, Kurt. Music is your voice. It's the best thing about you, and that's saying something. And I know _you."_

Kurt cradled the phone to his wet cheek. "God, Blaine," he whispered. "I don't know if I can deal with this."

"You can." There wasn't one shred of doubt in Blaine's voice. "And there's nothing bad here. I mean, there might be things to work through, but there wasn't any betrayal between you. It might not be the same, whatever you create, but… I know it's real. And I know he's good for you."

"Yeah, well, Mike was good for me, too. Look how that ended up." But Kurt knew it wasn't the same. He didn't even bother to let Blaine answer. "All right. _All right._ I'll — I'll talk to Santana." He sighed, feeling the tension starting to ebb. "She took video of him, on her phone."

"Oh my god," Blaine squealed, "_send _it to me!"

* * *

By the time Rachel came around to talk to him about why he'd told "Starchild" to get lost, Kurt's defensiveness about the outrageous sidekick best friend thing didn't seem believable even to him anymore. _Fringe is unsuccessful, huh? Right. Ask Lady Gaga. Or my ex-boyfriend. _It was easy to let her talk him into giving Starchild a second chance.

"I don't even have his phone number," he said feebly. "Or his real name."

Neither of which were true. Adam still lurked in his contacts list under _Adam, unlisted,_ even thought he hadn't heard anything from him in months. He'd found himself trolling the fanboards online periodically, especially back in April when Adam and Sauli had officially announced they'd broken up.

But he hadn't yet made the decision to actually take the risk of calling him when he came to work the next day and realized the bespectacled boy in the brown sweater, sitting in the corner booth, was waiting for him. He watched him from a distance throughout the beginning of his shift, but eventually it became impossible to go on ignoring Adam. Pen poised, he tried for an unaffected drawl.

"Hello, welcome to Spotlight; I'm Kurt, I'll be your chorus boy waiter, uh, today. Can I start you off with one of our signature orange freezes."

"First, can I ask you something?" Adam took off his glasses, holding out his hands and gazing up at Kurt with a sheepish appeal. "Is this toned down enough?"

"Oh, my god — Starchild." Kurt swallowed. Adam laughed, with more than a little relief.

"It's… Elliot Gilbert, actually."

If Adam was trying to hide the emotion in his eyes, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Kurt scrambled for something else to possibly say. _Elliot. How's your year been, Elliot? I've missed you so much, Elliot. I had a sex dream about you last night, Elliot. _

"Do you have a — a minute to talk?"

"Yeah," Kurt stammered. He turned and called back to Joanie, "I'm taking an intermission." That made Adam laugh. Before Kurt could chicken out, he pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat. "That's how we have to say _I'm taking a break_ here. An intermission. We have to say it or else we get fined." _God, I'm babbling. Just shut up, Kurt. _He took a deep breath. "I'm — so happy to see you. I've been trying to find you since your audition."

"Same. Hence my stalking you."

Kurt blinked, feeling Adam's chuckle like a physical touch. He restrained himself from reaching out across the table and grabbing his hand, but the urge was almost overwhelming.

"So I'm just going to come right out and say this." Adam steeled himself, shaking his head. "I — I need to be in your band. I mean, I came to New York to be in your band. Something cool and fun and — and special…"

"Here's hoping," Kurt whispered. Adam's eyes snapped at him. He appeared to be having difficulty exhibiting restraint himself. Kurt squared his shoulders. If this game was going to go on any further, he was going to need to be very clear on the rules. "Came from where? If you say Ohio, I'm going to die."

"Paramas. New Jersey." Adam smirked. "Land of malls. As soon as I was old enough, I used to take New Jersey transit to the City to see shows and concerts, go to museums… so I only applied to colleges in New York."

_College._ Kurt felt the icy-heat of shock. "Oh — do you go to NYADA, too?"

"No. NYU. I didn't get into NYADA." He shrugged. "But it's cool. I'm doing things all over the city, and one of the things on my artist bucket list is to be in an indie band. Specifically, _your_ indie band… Kurt."

Hearing Adam say his name, like that, while looking at him _like that,_ made him choke on a whimper. God, how could Adam still touch him, _like that,_ without laying one hand on him? Adam smiled gently.

"So… if Starchild's too much for you…" He licked his lips. "I can be whoever you want."

No matter what he'd said to Adam a year ago, there'd never been any question in Kurt's mind that Adam had always been exactly what he'd wanted. Now, in this moment, faced with him again, in _his_ restaurant, in_ his city… _it was almost too much for him to handle. He closed his eyes to gather himself. When he opened them again, Adam's smile was shy.

"I just wanted to make an impression."

"You _did,"_ he exhaled. "And… after a lot of soul-searching, I've come to the conclusion that the greatest chance for my — my band to be successful is to surround myself with the best people." He felt his heart catch when Adam's smile broadened. "And although there wasn't much of it, you blew the competition away."

"Yeah, well… you want to know a secret?" Adam glanced around before leaning across the table, lowering his voice. "I kind of chased away the rest of the competition. As in I sat out there in the hallway all morning and told them the audition was cancelled."

Kurt stared at him for a moment before laughing out loud. "Holy shit, you did not."

"I did," Adam whispered, his eyes gleaming. "Aren't I such a bad boy?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, not trusting what he might say in response to _that._ Adam looked down at the table, then glanced back up at him through lowered lashes.

"So I can audition again?"

Kurt shook his head. "No." It was worth it to see Adam's face fall, but he didn't leave him hanging long. "You're in. As Elliot Gilbert, as Starchild, or — or someone in between. Whoever you want to be."

"Who I _want_ to be," Adam echoed, shaking his head — but whatever else he was going to say was interrupted by Santana's bored commentary.

"Intermission's over. And you have a fiance, so stop flirting."

Kurt twisted around in his chair, jerking a thumb at Adam. "Santana," he hissed, "this is _Elliot Gilbert_, aka Starchild."

"Oh, well — hot damn." Santana's face split in an appraising smile. The sound of Adam's laugh made Kurt's heart leap into his throat. He turned back to Adam.

"And, I hope, the newest member of our band?"

Santana reached out and patted Kurt's shoulder. "Well, you just take as long an intermission as you like. I can cover for you with Joanie. Don't forget to get his phone number this time, all right?" She gave Adam a smug little wave, then sauntered away.

Adam was still laughing as he watched her go. "Can I just say I was surprised as hell when I realized that was Santana at the audition? I had no idea she'd come to New York with you."

Apparently the rules included being able to talk about their actual past when no one was listening. Kurt nodded. "She and Rachel have kept me tethered this year, after —" He paused before going on. "After Finn died."

"Yeah," Adam murmured. He clasped his hands in front of him on the table. "I can only imagine what you must have gone through. Must still be going through."

"I couldn't have made it without Blaine. He's been unbelievably strong through the whole thing." He kept his eyes on Adam's face as he added, "I don't know if you caught that, what Santana said, but Blaine and I are — he asked me to —"

"I know." Adam's expression barely changed, but Kurt saw his eyes flash. "Noah told me. That's why I came to New York. I needed to decide if this decision was as ill-considered as Noah seems to think it was."

That stung. "Noah has his own demons to wrangle. You know that."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Adam still wasn't letting his face betray his feelings, but Kurt thought he might sound a little chiding. "I'm saying a year ago, you told me you were too young to get married. That you needed some more time to live life on your own before you could choose something as _serious_ and _permanent _as marriage."

"I did," Kurt agreed, trying not to appear too defensive. Adam nodded solemnly.

"So I needed to see for myself how you were, to assess your decision. Because I just can't believe you would change your mind like that for no reason. And the truth is, I don't think you'd change your mind about something like marriage at all." His voice fell to a mellow whisper, but Adam's words were anything but. "I can't believe it's as simple as choosing the wrong person. Because I never was the wrong person."

"Really." Kurt floated the question on a sea of indignity, but Adam wasn't backing down. "That's a little conceited of you, don't you think?"

Adam smiled. "Well, Kurt, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm a little conceited. Are you really surprised? I should say _I_ was a little surprised that the first words you would say to me in over seven months were slamming my fashion design choices. Anyway, I still think Irina Shabavaya is a genius, and you'll never convince me otherwise."

"Don't tell _me_ your choice of song was a freak accident."

"You know me better than that, Kurt."

He pressed his lips together. "I used to."

"Come on, I doubt either of us have changed all that much in one year. I still know you're the biggest Gaga fan I've ever met, and believe me, I've met some." Adam's smile went a little soft. "She misses you."

"I miss her too," Kurt murmured. This was getting into some dangerous territory for broad daylight. He shook his head in disbelief. "I really don't understand how you've managed to get this far without anybody recognizing you. You're just — _sitting_ here."

Adam laughed. "Oh, really? Let's try this." He stood up, motioning for Kurt to follow, and walked up to the bar, where several customers were standing with their burgers and shakes. "Excuse me? Could you settle a bet between me and my friend?" Adam struck a pose. "Do you think I look like Adam Lambert?"

Kurt gaped as the couple looked Adam up and down. The man shook his head. "Sorry, buddy, I think you'd need some eyeliner."

"Oh, I don't know," said the woman, smiling back. "I see some similarities in your jawline."

"Thank you," Adam said brightly. He looked expectantly at Kurt. "I told you."

"You're right," Kurt said, shrugging helplessly. "How could I ever have doubted you?"

They seemed to both realize at the same moment that there was no longer a table between the two of them. Adam held his breath.

"Um — so I should probably stop taking advantage of Santana's generosity, but… any chance you can tell me when you get off?"

"Work," Kurt added quickly. "I get off _work_ at seven. And —"

"I'll be here," Adam promised. He backed away, giving a little wave with one hand. "Thank you, Kurt. You won't regret this."

Santana caught up with him as he stood there, watching Adam disappear into the crowd outside on the sidewalk. "Well, that was a hell of a lucky break. Please tell me he said yes."

"He said yes," Kurt agreed, his voice coming out faint. _Now I just have to figure out what I'm going to say in return._


	2. Chapter 2

_(Author's note: okay, let me just get one thing very, very clear. Things are not what they seem. I may not know precisely how I'm going to get there, but I am committed to the happy ending. If you don't know what that means, go back and read the notes at the beginning of Fingers of Your Fire. Got that? Good. Moving on. Warnings in this chapter for m/m sex and discipline. -amy)_

* * *

The rest of Kurt's shift went by in a big, cheerful blur. He was pretty certain he brought all the correct orders to all the correct customers, because no one complained and his tips were what he usually got, but he couldn't have repeated any of the orders if someone had asked him what they were. He just moved from counter to table, again and again, thinking: _Adam. Adam is here, in New York. Adam wants to see me. Adam is — in my band. _

"Chinese tonight," Santana informed him as she edged past him in the aisle. "We have that coupon to Gourmet Garden. You're going to have to pick it up, though; my shift doesn't end until nine, and you know what that means."

It meant that her shift actually wouldn't be over until nine-forty-five, and factoring in travel time, Santana wouldn't be home until ten-thirty. Kurt nodded. "No problem."

He scribbled notes on the back of his order pad. Their usual: Santana's chicken with garlic sauce, and Rachel's mu shu veggies ("with _brown_ rice, and hoisin on the side, I shouldn't have that much salt _ever"),_ and Dani's Mongolian beef, and —

_And Adam. Adam, waiting outside the restaurant for me._ Kurt couldn't actually see him, but he was sure he was there, like the moon camouflaged by the light of day. If Adam said he would be there, he would be. The thought pricked his heart, and Kurt had to pause and grasp the edge of the counter for support. _Adam._

"Are you okay?" Rachel stopped in the middle of delivering an order to make eye contact with him, frowning with concern.

He nodded vigorously. "I'm just — tired. I'm fine."

For flexible values of fine, it was true. He didn't feel sick, or angry, or even all that scared. The tingle of anticipation fired his last half hour, spurring him on every time he caught sight of the door. _Adam's probably right around that corner._

It wasn't until he'd punched out, folded his uniform shirt and slipped back into his own sweater that he realized he still hadn't made a decision about what to _do_ about Adam. He paused just beyond the break room door (labeled _Green Room,_ of course) and wondered if he should be panicking. But he wasn't. He felt as calm and relaxed as he had at any point in the past year. Trying to pick the feeling apart just left him puzzled, not upset.

_Maybe I really am okay,_ he thought, and that was even more puzzling.

But when he walked out the front door of Spotlight, he didn't see Adam waiting on the sidewalk. Instead, he saw his car. _Kurt's_ car: the pale yellow 64 and 1/2 Mustang. He put both hands to his mouth and stifled a shriek of delight.

The driver reached across and rolled down the passenger window with some effort. Kurt half-expected it to be Jacob — which would have been impossible, considering Jacob was in Quantico training at the FBI academy, although Kurt wasn't necessarily writing off impossible things today — but it was Adam himself, grinning at Kurt with wicked, delighted eyes.

"Need a ride?" he called. "Or do you want to drive?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Kurt was already halfway around to the driver's side door, bouncing impatiently while Adam climbed out of the deep bucket seat and ushered him in with a flourish. He could feel the warmth of Adam's body along his backside and legs, captured by the leather seats, and was suddenly aroused. The way Adam was looking at him as he climbed into the passenger seat wasn't helping either.

"We're double-parked," Adam murmured. "I think we'd better get out of here before the cops decide you shouldn't be driving this car. Do you even have a license in New York?"

"I suspect, even if they did pull me over, that I wouldn't get in trouble for being an Ohio driver." Kurt had to think for a moment if that license was still valid — but no, his birthday wasn't for another three weeks. The form was pinned to his bulletin board at home, waiting for his decision. He'd considered not bothering to pay the seventy-eight dollar fee to renew it, but the presence of the 'Stang-and-a-half in New York made that choice completely unacceptable. He couldn't suppress his smile. "Did you really drive this all the way out here from California by yourself?"

"It wasn't so bad," Adam said, waving his hand dismissively. "I made a stop in Lackland in San Antonio on the way."

Kurt shook his head, chuckling. "I know in theory Don't Ask, Don't Tell was abolished, but I'm guessing you, visiting Noah at basic training, still caused a stir."

"He hasn't started basic training yet. I won't be able to talk to him for eight weeks, once he does. You're implying _you_ haven't talked to him since he left?" Adam didn't sound angry or upset, just a little bit sad.

"Noah's almost as bad at staying in touch as I am. I got one text saying _I'm here and it's fucking hot,_ and that's been all so far. I'm not worried; he'll call me if he needs me." Every little analog control and knob and dial on the dashboard of the car was making him happy. Kurt turned on the windshield wipers, just because he could, and petted the steering column. "I suspect he was happy to see you, though."

"Every soldier needs a little discipline." Adam said it with such relish that Kurt could almost hear the whistle and impact of his Lexan paddle. "And I'm not pro-military in any way, but _god,_ Kurt, the _uniform."_ He groaned, writhing on the seat. "Noah in uniform exceeds expectations in every way."

Kurt tried to keep his focus on the road, but it was hard to do when he was laughing so hard. In the satisfying silence that followed, it felt so easy to reach out and tangle his fingers in Adam's, resting on the gear shift.

"I missed you," he said.

"Yeah. In so many ways. So many." Adam pulled Kurt's hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles, then let it go. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"How about you start by telling me where you're staying in the city?"

"Ah, yes. A little efficiency on Christopher Street. The best I could do on an emergency budget, which means both overpriced and a little too far out of the way to make it easy to attend classes, but at least I don't have a roommate."

Kurt almost choked. "Classes. You were serious about being a student? At NYU?"

"One class. Tess made me promise I wouldn't overload myself, my first time back. A nice anonymous American Studies lecture class with three hundred other freshmen." He sighed. "I'll tell you, I walked into my first day of class and almost walked right back out again, but so far I've kept my promise not to skip and not to 'forget' to do the reading."

"With Tess paying attention, I can imagine why." Kurt glanced over at him, pausing at the intersection. "I'm proud of you."

Adam's smile, hopeful and cocky at the same time, made his heart tumble into crazy rhythms. "I'm kind of proud of myself. But _you._ You got into NYADA, you sly dog. How's that been?"

"You mean you haven't been keeping tabs on me?"

"You said it yourself, honey: Noah's a lousy informant. I'd get about three sentences about each of you before he lost focus and started talking about Beth."

"I don't think he ever runs out of words about her," Kurt agreed. He kept his eyes on the road. "Whatever else Noah might be, he's a devoted Papa."

"She'd talk about you sometimes. In her two-year-old way." Adam sounded sad again, but Kurt wasn't going to stop driving through Brooklyn to comfort him.

"Three, now." Kurt smiled. "She was born exactly one month before my birthday. April 27, May 27. Although that first year she didn't feel like much of a birthday present."

"That's because she was with me. With us — me and Noah. God, I can't believe that was three years ago." Adam shook his head, staring at his lap. "That did something to me, spending those first couple weeks of her life with her. I don't think I'll ever stop wanting to be her — her Daddum."

"You don't have to," Kurt said, but Adam shook his head again, more emphatically.

"I don't get a choice in that, do I? When Noah was gone, she was gone too. Shelby barely tolerates me. It's not like I can call her up and schedule a visit with her while Noah's in the Air Force."

"That was a hard year for all of us. But it got better. It did."

"For a while." His expression was bitter, watching Kurt. "But then you were gone, too. That weekend was supposed to be your nineteenth birthday present, and I fucked it up by giving you that stupid ring."

"It — it wasn't stupid, Adam." They were almost at the loft now. Kurt circled the block, looking for a place to park. "It might have been a — a complicated birthday present, but you've never hesitated to give me those. I mean, I'll never forget my _eighteenth_ birthday."

That brought a smile to Adam's face. "That's still a good memory?"

Kurt carefully edged the enormous car into the parking lot, conscious of how much room it took up. He _really_ didn't want to run into the cars ahead or behind him, so he just went as slowly as he could. But by the time he turned off the car and focused on Adam again, Adam's smile was gone.

"Oh," Kurt said. He reached out and took Adam's hands. Adam closed his eyes at the contact, but he didn't pull away. "_Yes. _That's still a good memory. As far as I'm concerned, we had nothing _but_ good memories. And a year later… yeah, I felt terrible, saying no to you, but everything we had was still good. I don't have any regrets. Not one." He gave Adam's hands a little shake. "Okay?"

Adam nodded slowly, his eyes still closed. "I just — I didn't _know_ how you felt. After that weekend, you practically disappeared, and I figured it was all my fault for messing things up. I wasn't sure I deserved to ask you for anything after that." He opened his eyes, and still he didn't look at Kurt, directing his gaze at the dashboard of the 64 and 1/2 Mustang. "Before I left, I sold the GT. I didn't need two cars, and… I couldn't sell this one. Timothy told me to take it." He looked almost apologetic. "I _couldn't_ sell your car, Kurt."

"You don't have to. It's yours." It was the truth, but he watched Adam's eyes widen a fraction, and he wanted to take back the words. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not really, really happy to see it."

Now Adam did look at him. He wasn't trying to disguise the hope he was feeling. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kurt whispered. He cleared his throat. "No matter how big and flashy and obvious it is."

"Yeah?" Adam leaned in, edging his way across the leather seat toward the driver's side. "You don't mind me being big and flashy and obvious?"

"God, please don't tell me the car is a metaphor for your penis, because that would really ruin the whole thing for m — mmmph."

Adam's mouth was soft, just as soft as he'd remembered. Kurt surged forward, reaching for Adam's face, and Adam's arms came around him and hauled him forward until he was practically kneeling over Adam's lap. Now that they were touching, all of Kurt's uncertainty had vanished. Adam just felt warm and familiar and so, so good.

Adam's hands on his back were tentative, but when they edged down to cup his ass, Kurt moaned. Adam echoed the moan, tightening his hands. "God. You feel — this is okay?"

"I think we need to go inside." Kurt's lips found Adam's neck, making him curse. "Unless you want Elliot Gilbert to be arrested on charges of public indecency."

"The fucker deserves it, if he's going to let himself get caught." Adam let him go, though, sitting back, his breath uneven. "You're really going to invite me up to your apartment?"

"Before Santana and Rachel get home? You'd better believe it."

Adam still looked a little stunned, following him up the stairs to the dark hallway leading to their loft. "Kurt, are you telling me if I'd shown up any time in the past year, offering this, that you might have —"

Kurt set his bag down on the table by the door with an exasperated _thump._ "I don't know what I would have done. I'm trying to listen to my heart, because it's what we've always used as a gauge. My head says _why aren't you freaking out?_ My reason says _talk this out before you make a big mistake and hurt him again._ But my heart says _you still trust him._" He shook his head. "I do. And we have an hour."

"That — sounds pretty reasonable, actually." Adam's arms wrapped back around him, holding him tight as he searched Kurt's eyes. "You really think we can just pick this up where we left off a year ago?"

"Depends." He kept his jaw firm, but Adam, pressed this close against him, obviously wanting him, was going to have an effect. "What do you want from me?"

Adam snickered, but it was an old joke, and it didn't dull the tension between them. "Tonight, I want whatever you're willing to give me. Without worrying about whether you'll want it tomorrow."

He let Adam touch his face, let his own eyes slip shut. Let himself feel things he hadn't allowed himself to feel since the last time he'd seen Finn. "I want… I want you to flog me until I cry, and then I want you to — god." He was already crying. "To hold me down and fuck me."

"Honey," Adam said, with fervent sweetness, "that's exactly what I'm going to do." He kissed Kurt's eyelids. "Show me where, so I can undress you."

Adam was obviously charmed by the loft, but he didn't allow that to distract him. His intense focus was making Kurt a little clumsy and nervous, and when he took Kurt's wrists in his hands and pressed them up against the wall, Kurt couldn't keep from giggling.

"It's not you," Kurt promised, rolling his eyes and giggling more. "I'm just — it's been —"

"Oh, I understand," Adam assured him. His eyes covered Kurt's body, drinking him in. "You don't have to explain. I know just what you need."

And that was it. He always had known what Kurt needed, from the very beginning, even in those moments when Kurt hadn't known it himself — just as Finn had known. The tears came harder as he let himself feel the staggering loss, there in Adam's arms. He knew Adam wouldn't stop, wouldn't judge him, wouldn't ask him to explain. He would just give Kurt what he needed.

"Bottom of my trunk," Kurt managed finally. "Brown leather box."

"Shhh," Adam said. His hands, sliding Kurt's sweater over his head, were gentle. "We'll get there. God, Kurt, where did this body come from?"

"Three studio sessions a week on the dance floor at NYADA. And, I imagine, another year of maturity."

"You're astonishing. But then, I shouldn't have expected any less from you." He unzipped Kurt's pants for him, but let him squirm out of them himself. "I suppose I should feel inadequate."

"Oh, god, Adam." He stared up at Adam, stripping off his own polo. "You're perfect."

"Yeah, I was about to say you never made me feel that way, even if I've never managed the sculpted look." His hands skimmed Kurt's chest, brushing the minute tattoo over Kurt's heart with his thumb. Kurt's hand came up automatically to touch the matching tattoo on Adam's own chest. "The weekend we got these. You insisted I needed to be included in your family, even then. You've always made sure I felt… important."

"You are," Kurt insisted. Adam smiled, shaking his head.

"I don't know if you understand how that feels, coming from you. I have always had such respect for you, such admiration for your talent and drive." He grinned. "Maybe a little jealousy."

He felt his cheeks heat. "Which is _insane, _coming from you."

"Kurt, you've accomplished things in your nineteen years that I haven't yet done in my thirty-one. I'm not saying you don't deserve it, I'm just saying you're impressive." His fingers tightened on Kurt's shoulders. "But even I can tell when you're trying too hard. Get on your knees."

Kurt hugged his pillow to his chest and rested there, his bare ass quivering in the air, suffused with nervous energy. Blaine always submitted so gracefully, never hesitating to beg for help when he needed it. Puck still fought it, almost every time — yet both of them made it so obvious by their actions when they needed that release of a sound spanking. And as for himself… it wasn't like he was _new_ to this. So why was he always so surprised to realize when _he_ was being a brat, too?

"I guess it's hard to see, when it's yourself," he said aloud.

Adam chuckled. Kurt could hear him moving around beside the bed, shuffling through Kurt's things.

"That's certainly true for me. I usually need someone else to point it out to me. You — you've got a few tells. You get bitchier. That comment about Project Runway during the audition? I almost laughed. And you come up with the most creative, bizarre ideas." Kurt flinched as Adam's hand rested on the small of his back, caressing his skin. "Like starting a band."

"Like starting a band," Kurt echoed in dismay. "Shit."

"It's okay, honey." Adam leaned in and kissed his cheek, tender and slow. Into his ear, he whispered, "There's no shame in needing this. All your boys know it. You going to let me take over now?"

He nodded, feeling the tears come, and closed his eyes. "I'm all yours."

Adam was silent and still for a long moment. When he stirred, his hand touched Kurt's left, brushing over the band of gold on his fourth finger. He sighed. "Just for now. Yes. Right now… you're all mine."

Adam started slowly, the way he knew Kurt needed it, letting the tails of his flogger and gravity do the work. He loved the dispersive sensation of the flogger, each individual tail striking and combining to provide a thuddy tingling that reached every part of his body. He'd learned to appreciate the brutal precision of the cane and the breathtaking, terrifying energy of the single-tail whip at Finn's hand, and he'd followed Tess' lead in adopting the tawse as his preferred tool, but even now, when he wanted to _let go,_ the flogger was what would get him there.

"God," he moaned, as Adam put a little more force into the stroke. He pressed his face into his pillow — and cried out as Adam's hand landed smack in the center of his ass.

"Don't hide from me," Adam said crisply. "I won't allow it. Let it out."

He felt his face crumple. "I miss him." His voice wobbled, but he couldn't stop that now. The flogger struck again, harder, and he gasped. "I miss him _so much,_ and… and he's _gone."_

Adam's left hand stroked the back of his neck, tracing a pattern up and down his spine between each impact of the flogger. "You loved him."

There were no more words to say that would make sense. Kurt just gave in, letting the pain and thrust of the flogger drive the sobs out of him, giving him permission to be loud and furious and to _hate_ the world for taking Finn from him, from Noah — god, from _Blaine,_ who needed him most of all.

Adam didn't continue once he was crying in earnest. He climbed over Kurt to rest beside him on the bed, gathering him up into his arms and holding him tight.

"It's not fair," Kurt cried, balling his fists and pushing them against Adam's chest. "It's not the way it was supposed to _be."_

"I know, honey." Adam wasn't trying to shush him or stifle his tears, but he wasn't letting him go, either. "It sucks. It really, really sucks."

Eventually, of course, he did stop crying all on his own. Other sensations began to overpower the grief: the warmth of Adam's body, the scent of him, the stinging of the skin of his back and behind. He shifted closer against Adam, and sighed.

"Thank you."

Adam reached for a tissue next to the bed and handed it to Kurt, giving him enough space to move his hands and wipe his face. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet. There was something else you asked for."

Kurt flickered his eyes at the clock on his wall. "I don't know if that's such a good —"

"Such a master at redirection." Adam rolled him over gently onto his back, letting him settle against the sheet and squirm a little at the irritation against his skin. "I'm going to take care of you, and you're going to _stop worrying."_ Adam's hand wrapped around him, already half-hard, and squeezed. "Right now."

Kurt groaned, spreading his legs to make room for Adam between them. _He's in charge,_ he thought with relief. _He wants this._

"I missed you, too, you know," Kurt looked up at Adam, watching his face for any hurt or bitterness, but there was none. "This isn't just about Finn. I missed this, with you."

Adam just smiled, snapping the cap open on the bottle of lube. "I know that now, honey. It's so mutual. Don't think about that right now. Just be here with me."

Kurt felt a little more tension drop away when Adam produced a condom and put it on without any discussion at all. Whatever agreement they'd had between the five of them regarding unprotected sex had expired long ago. They'd have the conversation again, but now was not the time. He just wanted Adam inside of him.

"Fuck me," he demanded, but Adam's clean left hand came down to clamp over his mouth, stifling any further words. He hadn't stopped smiling.

"When I'm ready."

The image that came into Kurt's mind as Adam rocked into him was of Adam on his back during the audition, singing Gaga into the microphone with joyous abandon. He moaned against the pressure of Adam's hand, keeping him quiet, and pulled his knees back further toward his ears as his own hand slid down between them to grip himself. How would he ever be able to get through rehearsal beside him without being completely _obvious_ about what was going on between the two of them?

"You feel so… good," Adam breathed. There was no effort to make it last, from either of them. This was going to be hard, and fast, and Kurt didn't care that he'd be sore later; this type of pain had its appeal, too. Already, he could feel Adam tensing. "That chandelier… want you suspended like that, honey… oh god, missed you, taking you like this, you and Noah…"

That made him whimper, all the memories of the three of them together. It had been a long time since he and Blaine had had another man in their bed. It wasn't something he could do without a hell of a lot of trust, and even though Blaine would probably have gone along with anything he'd asked of him, Kurt knew the difference between two people loving a third, and three people making love, _together. _He wasn't willing to settle for the former. The memories were enough to spur him on, and he reveled in Adam's appreciative sounds as he came hard on his own chest. Adam sped up, thrusting hard, and joined him.

"That's it," Adam crooned, "just like that… so beautiful, giving me just what I want."

The words hit him hard. He was already off-balance enough that he found himself clutching for Adam and burying his face in his chest. Adam responded by stopping immediately, putting a hand on Kurt's face.

"What is it? Did I say the wrong thing? Kurt —"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "it's just… you _know_ what you want. A year later. You're sure you still want that?"

Adam sighed. "Kurt, I thought this wasn't going to be about that. It's just about what we want, right here, right now."

"That's not what I — god, Adam, don't you think I want this too? I'm the one who asked _you._ I'm saying, everything's so different without Finn, and I'm trying to keep it together, and —" He made a noise of frustration. "And now I'm fucking _this_ all up, too."

Adam turned his head far enough to kiss him. "Honey. Just stop. That flogging barely touched the surface of what you're dealing with. We can get through it, but it's not going to happen in one night."

"So much for right here right now." But Kurt felt the words relax him. He didn't have to deal with this all himself. Adam was here, and he wanted to help. "I'm such a mess."

"No more than any of us. You lost a partner. That's going to take time to get through. Give yourself a break." He backed up, holding Kurt firmly by the shoulders. "And _let me help."_

"I —" Kurt took a shuddering breath. "Okay. Thank you."

They ducked into the bathroom together for a quick shower, being as efficient as they could, although neither one did a very good job of keeping his hands to himself.

"Starchild," Kurt said, shaking his head. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"Ziggy Stardust?" Adam looked vaguely insulted. "Okay, we really need to work on your pre-eighties pop culture references. He was a messenger from a race of extraterrestrial beings, sexually promiscuous, basically there to deliver a message of peace and love."

"A messenger, huh?" He glanced sideways at Adam as he climbed out of the tub. "Don't tell me he came to tell me not to get married to Blaine."

"No, Kurt. To do exactly what you told me you wanted to do: to listen to your heart." Adam accepted the towel Kurt handed him with a meaningful look. "It's never led you wrong before."

They dried off and got dressed in silence. Sitting on his bed and tying his shoes, Adam looked up at Kurt and sighed.

"Honey… you know that song was for you. _Marry the Night."_ He watched Kurt nod reluctantly. "I may be your warrior queen, but you have always been my knight in shining armor. I trusted you when you told me I needed to leave Sauli."

Kurt touched his shoulder. He could feel himself blushing. "Not because I didn't like him."

Adam smiled. "I know you didn't like him. And I also know that's not why you said it. You knew I wasn't happy, that that relationship was never going to be what I wanted."

"No, I knew you were leading him on," said Kurt, "and _he_ didn't deserve that."

"Sauli didn't have any illusions about what I could offer him. He knew from the beginning that my heart was elsewhere." He placed his hand on top of Kurt's. "Still is."

Kurt swallowed on a dry throat. "We, um… you should get going, I think. The girls will be home soon and we probably don't want to explain —"

"How I picked up Chinese food and brought it over as a peace offering, and in an attempt to get to know my bandmates better?" Adam grinned at his surprise, holding up his scribbled order for Gourmet Garden. "How about you let me pay."


	3. Chapter 3

There were still leftovers in the fridge from Adam's Chinese food the other day, but Dani had brought pizza with her tonight, and fresh pizza trumped leftover Chinese by a narrow margin.

"Although, in the game of leftovers," Kurt observed, reaching for a second slice, "Chinese wins hands down every time."

"Well, I figured if Rachel was going to be at rehearsal, we could get our cheese and meat on." Dani reached down and patted her guitar case, grinning at Adam. "And make some harmonies. I've been jonesing to sing with you again since that kick-ass audition."

"Lucky Kurt had a change of heart." Santana regarded Kurt over crossed arms. "You can say it any time. _I was completely wrong, Santana._ Go ahead. Just open your mouth and let the words come out."

"Well, Kurt thought I should tone down my image," said Adam. "That was probably a good suggestion."

"Oh, _hell_ no," Dani said passionately. "Your image is fantastic just the way it is. Turn it up to eleven. You said you got your inspiration from the _Ziggy Stardust _album? I wouldn't mind singing a little Bowie."

"Yeah, except apparently Kurt's never heard of Ziggy Stardust." Adam watched Dani open the case on her Les Paul with avid interest.

"Kurt can Google lyrics on his iPad," Kurt replied, trying not to grin at Adam's restless excitement, "and unpack a harmony line after one readthrough. We're all professionals here. Just give me a little context."

He felt better when it appeared Santana was as clueless as he was. They all hummed along while Dani strummed the chords and Adam fed them the melody.

"It was _the_ definitive concept album of the 1970s," he said, "as influential as the Beatles were in the 1960s." His eyes flashed at Kurt. "The instructions on the album were to play it at maximum possible volume."

"We won't _try_ to piss off the neighbors tonight." Santana came over to sit on the arm of Kurt's chair, reading over his shoulder, but Kurt couldn't keep his eyes on the words. He was watching Adam lose himself, the music taking him to a place where emotion was primary. He was pretty sure Adam couldn't _actually_ have toned down his image if he'd tried. The fact that he was wearing ordinary street clothes didn't change Adam's voice, Adam's presence, Adam's utter devotion to whatever he happened to be singing at that precise moment.

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_Pushing thru the market square  
So many mothers sighing  
News had just come over,  
We had five years left to cry in_

_News guy wept and told us  
Earth was really dying  
Cried so much his face was wet  
Then I knew he was not lying_

_I heard telephones, opera house, favorite melodies  
I saw boys, toys, electric irons and T.V.'s  
My brain hurt like a warehouse  
It had no room to spare  
I had to cram so many things  
To store everything in there  
And all the fat-skinny people, and all the tall-short people  
And all the nobody people, and all the somebody people  
I never thought I'd need so many people…_

Kurt sang along, following Adam's rising and falling dynamics. When they got to the line about _so many people,_ however, he pressed his lips together and went back to humming for a little while. A song about the end of the world and needing people felt a little raw at the moment — but, then, really, everything did. Adam carried the melody while the rest of them fell into a comfortable backing harmony on the chorus.

"Sweet," Dani said, sounding satisfied, when they were done. "Bowie suits you, Elliot."

"Might be the flamingly gay thing," Adam mused. Santana snorted.

"We've got _that_ in spades. We might as well name our band Queers-R-Us."

"Not if we want Rachel to join," Kurt said. He wasn't going to go into detail about his own suspicions about Rachel, because however she identified was more important than his judgment about her. "Are all the songs from that album that depressing?"

Dani and Adam grinned at each other. "Moonage Daydream," he said, and she nodded, playing a dramatic opening chord.

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_I'm an alligator, I'm a mama-papa coming for you  
I'm the space invader, I'll be a rock 'n' rolling bitch for you  
Keep your mouth shut, you're squawking like a pink monkey bird  
And I'm busting up my brains for the words_

_Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe  
Put your ray gun to my head  
Press your space face close to mine, love  
Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah_

_Don't fake it baby, lay the real thing on me  
The church of man, love, is such a holy place to be  
Make me baby, make me know you really care  
Make me jump into the air_

Adam was staying in his chair, minimizing his dancing, but he couldn't entirely eliminate his dramatic moves. Kurt sighed as Santana applauded, obviously as much for Adam as for Dani.

"So much for not being outrageous," he muttered.

"So much for not being an _asshole,"_ Santana declared, swatting him on the arm. "I thought you'd gotten over this. Kurt Hummel doesn't have to be synonymous with outrageous for you to appreciate something awesome." She turned to Adam. "That was awesome, in case you didn't catch that compliment."

"Thanks," he said, smiling at her. To Kurt, he added, "It's okay. I'm willing to keep adjusting my style until it works for you."

"Now, that's very big of you, Elliot. Kurt's really not always like this." Santana slung a brotherly arm around his shoulder, while Kurt tried very hard not to punch her. "You know, back in high school, he actually got invited to California to sing with Lady Gaga."

Adam's eyes lit up with mirth, but he was thankfully saved from having to respond by Dani's exclamation. "Get _out._ How did _that_ happen?"

Kurt told a brief account of how he'd reworked Gaga's prerelease of _Hair_, and how Puck's brother had played it for her. Dani was beside herself.

"What was that like? Was she as completely amazing as she seems?"

"It was — an incredible trip," Kurt agreed, not looking at Adam. "And a lucky break. I've been back to visit a couple times since then, but our accompanist in our Glee club ended up doing extensive work on her _Born This Way_ album."

"Wow," Adam said casually. "I'm surprised you're not in LA instead of New York, with all your contacts out there."

Kurt sniffed. "This is where I belong. I'm not looking to release a hit song. I want to be on the stage."

It wasn't exactly true, though, and Kurt heard his own comments to Rachel echo in his head: _Does that give me financial security? A mass audience? A song on the radio?_ Adam was being a pushy, obnoxious dork, but he had a point.

"You know, I get that," Adam said, sitting on the edge of the couch. "I've done some work on the stage, and it's a real rush, being part of an ensemble like that."

"Oh yeah?" Dani asked, noodling through the chords to Gaga's _Hair_. "What shows did you do?"

Adam grinned. "I understudied Fiyero in _Wicked._ I was Charlie MacLaren in _Brigadoon. _There were a couple other things that sucked."

After that, Kurt couldn't do anything but choose the furthest chair away from Adam and Dani while they sang. At least Santana was distracted enough by Dani's smooth guitar stylings not to notice how tense Kurt was — or maybe she just assumed it was his normal state of being around "Elliot." Eventually they devolved from rehearsal into talking about the name again, which wasn't any less stressful.

There really wasn't anywhere private to talk in the loft, but Adam caught him on the way to the bathroom. He gave him an appraising glance that was much more serious than anything he'd shown in front of the others.

"You're going to give yourself a headache," he murmured. "Would you just go to bed and let us wrangle this band name into submission?"

_I can set my own goddamn bedtime, thank you very much,_ he wanted to snap, but that would have drawn more attention than he would have cared to attract. "I'm fine," he said instead, pushing past Adam and closing the door behind himself.

He wasn't going to let himself cry, because the way he'd been feeling for the past month, he wasn't likely to stop any time soon if he started. Instead he sat on the edge of the clawfoot tub, taking deep breaths and trying to release some of the tension that had taken up residence in his neck.

But there wasn't any time in which Kurt wasn't paying attention to Adam's body language. When Rachel got home, Kurt watched Adam slip quietly to the back, his arms crossed, while Kurt talked her into joining the band. Adam was more of a listener after that, making few comments as they called Caden, the drummer from Kurt's instrumental theory class, and Dani's bass-playing friend Bethany, to schedule a practice for later that week.

Later, while he was moisturizing, Kurt heard but didn't quite understand the ringtone that emanated from his cell phone. No wonder, since he hadn't heard it in over a year. He scrambled to silence the sound of Adam's twenty-one second sustained note before picking it up.

"Hey," Adam said softly. "So… Pamela Lansbury, huh?"

"It was a perfect name," Kurt replied in a whisper. "And I'm not talking to you right now. Rachel and Santana are right on the other side of this fake wall."

"Why is this such a problem?"

"Because I'm _engaged,"_ he hissed.

"Kurt, you're _polyamorous._ Don't tell me Santana and Rachel don't know this about you."

He opened his mouth to respond, but ended up shutting it again. He couldn't figure out what to say, because it was a completely reasonable question.

"Are you saying you want to ask me out on a date, Elliot?" he said in a normal tone of voice.

Adam laughed, a little nervously. "I'm saying if I did, would it be the end of the world? And… god, honey, _yes._ I want to ask you out on a date. I want to be in your bed right now."

"That's a big jump, from _taking me out_ to _sleeping in my bed."_ But he couldn't help smile. "I'm going to have to talk to Blaine about this."

"I — of course. Yes." Adam dropped his voice, sounding bewildered. "You mean it? You would do that for me?"

Kurt rested his forehead on his hand. "I don't know. But you're right. There's no reason I shouldn't consider it."

"If you want me to court you all over again, Kurt, you know I'll do it. I'll do anything you ask."

"Okay, that's a little creepy, coming from you. I really don't want you to be my slave."

"No," Adam agreed. "No… I think I know what you want from me. You let me know what Blaine says, okay? And I'll see you on Friday."

"Good night… Ellot."

When Kurt set his phone down, Rachel was standing beside the frame of orange crates that formed the entrance to his sleeping area. She was smiling, but her face was sad.

"Did he really ask you out?"

"I think so. I mean, yeah. He did." Kurt closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't know if I want to get into this, Rachel."

"No, no, it's fine," she said hastily. "I know how you guys are. I just… I think it's a little soon, don't you? After… Finn, to start thinking about somebody new?"

"Finn and I haven't been together in a long time." It hurt to say it, though he couldn't figure out why. "Not really. He made his choices after high school."

Rachel shrugged, crossing her arms. "I know. You're not the only one he left." She glanced at the phone. "I like Elliot. He's really talented, and he seems nice. But you don't know anything about him. Just… go slowly, okay? Be careful."

"I will be. I already told him I had to talk to Blaine about it first."

She laughed. "Blaine's not going to say no to you. He _never_ says no to you."

"I'm still going to give him the chance. I think that's part of the deal, when you get engaged? Some kind of veto power over stupid dates with gorgeous musicians?"

Rachel's smile went playful. "He is pretty gorgeous."

"Oh, and who's going slowly now? Shoo, shoo." He made flicking motions at her from his seat, and she scampered out of his room.

But Kurt took his time with the rest of his moisturizing routine, and by the time he got in bed and opened his laptop to log into Skype, it was almost Blaine's bedtime. He looked a little anxious, as he often did when routines got disrupted, and Kurt felt a twinge of guilt.

"I'm sorry to be late," he said, settling back against the pillow. "I got a call. From… Elliot."

"Oh!" Blaine smiled. "Things are going okay? With… with the band, and everything?"

"Yes. Everything's fine." He'd told Blaine about Adam's visit earlier that week, and Blaine's response had been one of relief and support, although he'd seemed a little uncertain. "He said something about… asking me out on a date."

"A date. The kind of date that Rachel and Santana would know about and grill you about?"

"Yeah, that kind. It would be… beyond weird, but I have to say there's something appealing about not having to hide."

"Kind of." Blaine's voice was gentle. Kurt winced.

"I can't imagine trying to be _completely_ open about this, Blaine."

"As long as A- as long as he wants to stay hidden, I don't think you can do it any other way." He leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowed. He whispered quietly enough that neither Rachel nor Santana could hear. "Do you… want this, with him? Dating him, a relationship with him?"

Kurt leaned in too, wishing he could hold Blaine's hands. "Would it freak you out if I said yes?"

"Baby, no. I told you, I think he's good for you, and you _need_ that, from… somebody." He shifted restlessly. "Did you talk to Puck?"

"I didn't want to get his hopes up until A- we had things resolved. I'm not going to be able to get in touch with him for eight weeks, anyway." He let out a breath. "This is impossible. How could I even be _thinking_ about this?"

"Well, you have a green light from me, Kurt. And I trust you to make a good decision." Blaine yawned, climbing under his covers. As Kurt watched him strip off his t-shirt, he paused.

"Where did you get that shirt?"

Blaine picked it up. "I don't know?"

"Blaine, that's Finn's shirt. I can see the two dots on the tag." After they'd mixed up their t-shirts too many times in the laundry, they'd established a code: one dot for Burt, two for Finn, three for Kurt, four for Noah, five for Blaine. "Did you take it from the giveaway box?"

"I — I guess I must have." He was a terrible liar, but most of the time it didn't bother Kurt. It just made him feel even more protective of Blaine than he usually did.

"Can you snag one for me?"

Blaine's face softened. "Of course. I'll bring it with me the next time I visit."

* * *

_You held me down but I got up  
Already brushing off the dust  
You hear my Voice? You hear that sound?  
Like thunder, gonna shake your ground_

_- Adam Lambert, "Roar" in A Katy or A Gaga_


	4. Chapter 4

_(Author's note: now things start to get complicated. Warning in this chapter for temporary speech impediment, m/m sex and discipline. -amy)_

* * *

Kurt wasn't sure if he should tell Blaine that Tina had texted him a copy of the video of Blaine twerking in the choir room, but he figured it would be better for Blaine to hear it from him than from somebody else.

_You've got some pretty hot moves, _he told Blaine. _Can't wait to see them in person._

_Oh, god, Kurt,_ Blaine replied immediately. _Was it Tina? I swear I'm going to kill her._

_No, no! I'm serious, it was lovely. Anyway, I sent you Adam swinging on the chandelier, didn't I?_

_There was nothing embarrassing about that. Okay, maybe the extreme pelvic thrusts were a bit much. Don't you dare share that video with him!_

Kurt sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. There wasn't much danger of that happening. Other than rehearsal with Pamela Lansbury on Friday, he'd barely spoken to Adam all week. He'd let Blaine distract him with scandalous stories about Glee club singing "Blurred Lines" and parties in the bathroom, while all the time he couldn't stop thinking about how complicated his life had suddenly gotten. There seemed to be a lot of questions and not many answers.

Like, what would happen when the world realized who Elliot Gilbert really was? Kurt was pretty certain somebody was going to figure it out eventually. What would Adam do then? Would he stay at NYU if his cover was blown? He'd need a hell of a lot more than Jacob to watch him. For a moment, Kurt wondered if someone were keeping tabs on him now, but decided that was a silly question; there was no way Tess would let him go unwatched.

And then there was Blaine himself. Kurt had spent more than a little time worrying about Blaine getting what he needed without Finn _or_ Puck. It did seem he wasn't going to deal with his grief in front of Kurt. He wondered if he'd do well to ask Mr. Berry to find Blaine a grief therapist. He could ask his dad and Carole, but they had enough of their own grief to deal with. And Blaine might be staying at their house, but he wasn't their son, not quite in the way Puck and Sarah were. Kurt suspected that his dad and Carole had always been so hands-off about Blaine precisely because all three of them had been so possessive of him. Now, half the time, he was the only one at the house. _We never worry about Blaine being home alone,_ Carole told Kurt once. _He's more responsible than most adults. _

But _he shouldn't have to be alone,_ Kurt wanted to say, now. Blaine had Sam and Tina and the rest of Glee, but it wasn't enough. Kurt knew with his whole heart that this was true. He knew what Blaine needed, and Blaine wasn't getting it, and —

And Blaine seemed to be doing okay anyway. He sighed, cradling his head in both hands, and went to find Rachel. She listened while he reviewed the situation.

"What does this _mean?_" he demanded. "Either Blaine _is_ fine, and I don't really know my boyfriend as well as I think I do, or Blaine really _isn't_ fine, and —"

"Kurt," Rachel said, giving her head a little shake. "Blaine isn't going to be fine for a while. Neither are you." She shrugged. "Or me. I don't think anybody expects us to be. He's at home in Lima with Mr. Schue and Glee club. I think they're helping him more than you realize."

But Kurt wasn't convinced. Rachel wasn't the intuitive one. That was _Finn._ Kurt could overthink the situation to death, but it wasn't going to get him any closer to the truth.

"Do you think you — might want to talk to somebody?" he asked Blaine that night over Skype. "About Finn?"

"I talk to Mrs. Pillsbury," he said, "and Coach Beiste sometimes. You know they understand. You really think I should tell _more_ people?"

When Blaine was using better logic than Kurt himself was, he knew something was definitely not right with the world. But it was like seeing the truth and knowing how to deal with it were two different things. When Rachel came to him with her snazzy new hairdo and called him out for sitting around the house eating and worrying all the time, all he could do was agree with her. Maybe he _did_ need to do something rebellious, to dive headfirst back into life.

"You know, Finn told me once," he said, getting his bag, "doing _something_ is sometimes better than doing nothing, even if you're not sure it's the _right_ thing."

Rachel seemed to think that sounded pretty good. And still… Kurt wondered. What was being rebellious really going to get him, in the end? The five of them had put a great deal of thought and effort into getting their first tattoos, and even that one he covered up with makeup half the time. Not for the first time, he wondered if he should just tell Rachel about it.

_But that's mine,_ he thought, putting a hand over his heart to cover the tiny triplet note. _This is my memory of a simpler time. It's never going to be like that again._

The limoncello tasted disgusting on its own. He wanted to say _Alec told me he'd never tattoo a drunk person because the alcohol thins their blood,_ but this tattooist didn't even seem to notice. He put him facedown on the table and accepted Kurt's printout of his _It gets better_ in script.

By the time they got home, he was too inebriated to bother to brush his teeth, which he vaguely realized would be a problem in the morning. He did get out his cell phone and look at it, trying to remember who he should call every night before bed.

"Adam," he murmured, and pressed the right buttons. He waited for him to pick up.

"Kurt?"

He rolled over onto his back before he realized the tattoo was there and returned to his front. "I wasn't sure if you'd be around, since it's so early, but then I remembered you were in my time zone now. Then I remembered it's been two years since you made me call you every night, and —"

"Kurt," he sighed, "are you pretending to be drunk again?"

"No, I think this time I might actually be drunk. A little drunk." He hiccuped. "It was a little bottle, for a little tattoo."

"A — Kurt, are you home?"

"I'm home," he confirmed.

"Okay. Thank god. Now tell me you didn't get a tattoo."

"I didn't get a tattoo," he said obediently. "Except I _did._ It's a little one, and it's on my back, I can't even see it." He pouted, waving his hand expressively, even though Adam wasn't there to see him. "What's your problem, anyway? _You_ have lots of tattoos. That new one on your shoulder, with the drinking-water-guy, I've only seen in pictures."

"Yes, and I've considered each tattoo carefully, but that's not my point. It's your body, honey, you can do what you want with it."

Kurt felt his breath catch. "I know. There's… there's no one I have to answer to."

"No," Adam agreed. "You're your own man now."

Now he just felt like crying. "That _sucks."_

"You've got choices, Kurt, but you're not going to make them tonight. Do you want to come over?"

"Oh." He raised himself up on both arms, propelled by a surge of hope, accompanied by lust and apprehension. "God, I… I don't think I could manage getting dressed again."

"Do you know what you need?"

He let his eyes fall closed, feeling the tension gathering in his chest. "No," he whispered.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. It's okay, honey. Just go to sleep and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Just call me when you're ready, and I'll come over."

He had no idea how he was going to get to sleep after that, but somehow he managed it, resting on his side and clutching his boyfriend pillow tight around him. It wasn't exactly like being held down by someone else, but it was better than nothing. He thought about Rachel, sleeping alone in her own bed, and wondered if she missed Finn for any of the same reasons he did.

_Rachel doesn't have anybody to take care of her,_ he thought, before drifting off to sleep. It made him sad. She was, in a weird way, a part of his family too.

But in the morning, his muzzy brain could only think about Noah. It was strange how much he missed him in the mornings, and it only had a little bit to do with Noah's breakfasts. It had taken a lot of work to salvage what was left of their relationship after the disaster of junior year. Kurt wouldn't have chosen to taunt Noah by asking for more intimacy than he could provide, or requiring him to submit the way he'd used to, but some mornings, the memories of Noah in his arms were tangibly painful. Blaine was perhaps the only person in the world who would understand. He reached for his phone.

_Missing Noah,_ he sent. _And you. And other people._

It was early, but not so early that Blaine wouldn't be awake and getting dressed for his workout. _Oh, baby,_ the reply came back. _Yeah. I know how exactly how that is. Can I do anything to help?_

He smiled. Blaine was such a good boy, even if he wasn't Kurt's. He just wanted to take care of everybody. _You can absolve me of guilt for getting a tattoo without telling you first._

_You got another tattoo? That's so cool! What is it, where? Tell me, tell me!_

Kurt had never wondered if Blaine would be upset. Blaine really would do anything for him, gladly, without once questioning it. He sat up in bed, trying to reach around to touch his shoulder blade. _I'll have Rachel take a picture of it and send it to you._

* * *

But his first phone call, after returning to the tattooist who'd made the ghastly mistake, was to Adam. He'd already walked three blocks past the subway station before he realized where he was walking.

"Um," he said, feeling the metal in his mouth. "Are you home?"

"I'm on my way back from the grocery store. Where are you?"

"I'm four blockth from you. I think you need to thee this."

"Are you eating something?"

"Crow. A big mouthful of crow. Can I pleath come over?"

He hurried, but Adam still made it to his apartment before he did. He ushered Kurt in, shutting the door and pulling down a set of roll-down opaque vinyl blinds.

"Tess threatened to come after me personally if I didn't take good security precautions. We're being watched, but as long as we're here, nobody's going to worry about what we do. Now, what…" He turned around — and stopped when he saw what was protruding from Kurt's mouth, his eyes widening. "Oh, _shit._ Don't you point that thing at me, mister."

"You hate it," said Kurt, as best as he could.

Adam shook his head, taking Kurt into his arms. "No. I don't hate it. I'm… feeling a little defensive of your body. Protective, maybe." He clutched him harder. "Possessive."

"Yeah?" It was with more relief than fear that he took that in, leaning his face on Adam's chest. "Careful of my back. Therth's a new tattoo there."

"Boy, you really were asking for it, weren't you?" Adam murmured, patting his shoulder gingerly. "Come on. Let's see it."

Kurt unbuttoned his shirt and unwound his scarf again, letting Adam untape the bandage and investigate the red, swollen skin on his shoulder blade.

"_It's got Bette Midler?" _ He raised a dangerous eyebrow. "Really?"

"Better than what it wath an hour ago. I can't complain." He shrugged back into his shirt. "And I actually think it's great. Nobody else needs to love it but me."

"Well, I'll learn to love it because it's on your body, and I love everything about your body." Adam bent down and kissed his neck above the collar of his shirt, clearly delighted by Kurt's whimpering noises. "You're not in too much pain to let me enjoy it? I'd hate to miss this opportunity to be alone with you."

"Not in too much pain," he promised. "I… I told you latht night that I didn't know what I needed, but… I think I do." He looked up, waiting for Adam's response.

Adam just stood there, looking back at him with such love and care that Kurt blushed. Adam shrugged.

"Well, when you're ready to ask for it, you can." He held out a hand. "Until then, will you come to bed with me? I can think of a couple positions that won't give your tattoo any trouble."

Kurt was silent, letting Adam undress him, kneeling on all fours on the tiny twin mattress while Adam slicked him up and slid into him. Every time he thought he was ready to ask for what he needed, he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. He just let Adam take him, gentle and slow and with infinite patience, leaning over his back and covering him with his body.

"What are you wanting, hmmm?" Adam prompted once.

Kurt took a hitching breath. "Noah."

Adam paused, sighed, and ran his fingers through Kurt's hair before continuing fucking him lazily. "He misses you too."

"I'm not thurprithed. He needth tho many things, and… I don't think he'll ever let me give them to him again."

"Don't be so sure. It just takes time to heal, after something like this." Kurt felt Adam's hand reach around, but instead of moving to his cock, Adam put a hand over his heart, covering the tattoo. He leaned into Adam's hand, letting him bear some of his weight.

"I don't know how to athk," Kurt whispered.

Adam giggled, slowing his pace even more. "I'll admit, I was really hoping to hear you say the word 'spank' with that tongue of yours. But if it's too hard, honey, I'll do it for you anyway. I just need to know you want it."

"Oh, my god, Adam," he moaned. "I _want it."_

"Yeah. Thank you for admitting that. Reach under my pillow, there, would you?"

Kurt slid his hand between the pillow and the blanket and touched something cool and smooth and familiar. He felt the tension drop away as soon as he clutched it in his fingers. "Apparently, that'th all I needed."

Adam stopped, carefully holding onto the condom as he withdrew. "Should I just send you home, then?"

"No," he begged, tucking the paddle into Adam's hand on his chest. "No, I need… tho much more. I just don't know to athk for all of it without feeling —" He cut himself off.

"What?" Adam asked gently. He took the paddle from Kurt, resting it on Kurt's behind.

Kurt hid his face in his hands. "Thelfish."

This time Adam didn't laugh. He leaned over and placed a kiss on Kurt's cheek.

"I'm not going to tell you no. I came here from California for _you._ You get to ask for anything you want. There's nothing I want more than to give you what you need." He rested the surface of the paddle on Kurt's behind. "But you have to tell me you want it. I'm not going to be an asshole about it, but I'm not crazy about the idea of being rejected again. If you'd really rather not have something from me, just don't ask, and I'm not going to force it on you."

Kurt felt something inside let go. He'd never been afraid to cry in front of Adam, not even at the beginning, when he felt so intimidated by his star status. Adam's hand rested on his shoulder as he wept silently.

"You're not forthing me," Kurt said at last. "You're not forthing me to do anything. I want… I want _you_ to give me what I need."

"I got that, honey." Adam sounded resigned. "But that's more complicated than it might appear, too. Because you get to say no. You can always say no. And I already told you what I think you need, and… you said no."

Kurt nodded, still crying. "And you came back to try again."

Adam sighed. "No. You already made your choice. You said yes to another man."

"But I —" He heard the words come out like a whine, and felt the pressure of the paddle, and stopped himself. "I don't belong to him."

"I won't play that game with you, Kurt," Adam said sharply. It made Kurt flinch, to hear him speak that way, because Adam seldom raised his voice for any reason. "You don't get to distract me with arguments. We _will _talk about this, but right now, this is not a negotiation. You're here because I can give you something."

"I'm here becuath I _mith you,"_ Kurt cried, "becauth when you showed up after a year of being away I realithed how much I was _hurting_ without you in my life. Becauth I _need you."_

"Oh," Adam whispered, and fell silent, his breath coming out harsh and ragged. Kurt was pretty sure he was crying too.

"I'm thorry. I thound ridiculouth and I don't _care,_ I'm just _tho thorry _that I didn't call you, but I was thcared that you — that you didn't want me anymore, that I'd made a terrible mithtake, maybe the worst mithtake I've ever made — I just don't _know_ —"

"All right." Adam's voice was calm now. "I hear you. Are you going to listen to me now?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know I don't think you made a mistake?

He turned his head to look at him, startled. "No?"

"I don't think it was a mistake to say no to me. Not if you weren't ready. Whether or not it was a mistake to say yes to Blaine, I think only you know that for sure." He smiled fondly at Kurt. "When you say yes to me, about anything, I want it to be with your whole heart. Do you understand me?"

"Yeth."

Adam snorted. "Yeah, you do sound ridiculous. And I love you so goddamn much. Now are you ready to get your ass paddled, you naughty little boy?"

Kurt knew it was a joke, but it had its effect, with him already on his knees and Adam holding the wooden paddle, poised to do damage. He squeaked out, "Yethhir."

Adam let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, honey." He positioned his hand carefully on Kurt's back so as to avoid the bandage, pressing his chest into the bed. "You can stay there on your knees. For my peace of mind, please use _red_ and _yellow_ if you need them."

Kurt didn't have a chance to respond to that, because in the span of the next two seconds, Adam had already brought down the paddle twice. He didn't even had enough breath in his lungs to yell before Adam had swatted him three more times.

"Don't try to tell me you're too delicate for this business, either," Adam said blithely. "I know you too well for that."

He hadn't even thought about pleading _too much._ Adam had seen him endure far more intense sessions with far more brutal implements. He had given Kurt some fairly harsh ones himself.

It wasn't about what Kurt could_ take_. It was about what he needed to get him through this moment, in which it felt not only safe, but _sane_ to go to an unknown tattoo artist with a bottle of alcohol and to ask him to permanently mark his flesh. What did that imply about his frame of mind in which he said _yes_ to anything at all? With each impact of the paddle, his head reeled.

"I'm thorry," he whimpered, trying not to pull away.

"I know, honey." Adam stopped, dropping the paddle on the bed. He crouched down beside Kurt's head, stroking his hair. "I think you're done. I mean, maybe you think you need more, but all I want to do is hold you and tell you how —" He paused, laughing, and shook his head. "How good _my boy_ is. And that would be a hell of a mixed message when I just told you you weren't going to be my boy again."

Kurt rested his head on his folded arms, leaning in as close to Adam as he could get. "I think I can deal with that."

Adam nudged Kurt's forehead with his. "Yeah? You don't think I'm being irresponsible?"

"Not if you finish fucking me now."

Adam's smile was incandescent. "Do you think that tongue of yours could deal with a kiss first?"

* * *

"… and I got home, and Rachel was really thweet about the tattoo, even though she didn't get one herthelf. I just felt _so_ much better after I thaw Adam. The comment about being shocked back to life… I'm thure Rachel thought I wath talking about the pierthing — which, honethtly, didn't hurt all that much."

"Well, you know, Rachel understands too." Blaine looked so pleased for him, he had to reach out and stroke the computer screen. "Let me see it again."

"The tat or the pierthing?"

"The piercing. I've been told it feels really good when you're — when you're using your mouth on someone." Blaine still couldn't say things like _blowing me_ without the aid of alcohol or submission. Even now, he looked away and blushed while he was talking. It was still endearing after three years. Kurt stuck out his tongue and let Blaine have a long look. "You'll, um, have to ask Adam to let me know how it is."

"You'll get to feel it yourthelf thoon enough." He leered at Blaine, who blushed harder. "Tho, what do you thay? Am I gonna get thyber-lucky tonight or what?"

"Kurt…" Blaine hesitated long enough that Kurt's own smile dimmed. "I think I need to tell you something."

"What ith it?" he asked immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Oh — it's good. It's really, really good. I just… things have changed so much in the last couple weeks. I don't even know how to approach this. And I'm not supposed to say anything, but…" He shifted in his chair, scooting forward toward the computer so his entire face filled the screen. "Kurt, do you remember when I was all by myself at Dalton, and Jeff let me call Finn on the phone for the first time?"

Kurt remembered. "I wathn't in the car, but Finn told me about it as soon as he got home. It was the night we decided I needed to go to Dalton and watch out for you. We were _tho _lucky Dave agreed to take the fall, or it might have taken me months to get there." He shivered. "God. I don't want to think about how hard it wath for you, those months without us."

"It's okay, Kurt. You took care of me." He smiled. "The point is, I wasn't supposed to call, right? It was breaking all the rules, but Finn and Jeff decided it was important enough to risk my father's wrath for me to hear his voice. Hearing it was like — an epiphany." Kurt saw his eyes light up, and he had to smile. Blaine's reaction to Finn had always given him a tremendous charge. "I had started to doubt Finn was even real by that point, I was so lost in my own misery and trying my damned best to be the perfect boy my father wanted. Anyway…" He shook his head. "After I heard his voice again, I felt like maybe I _could_ do it after all. I could get through to the other side."

"I underthtand," Kurt nodded. Blaine bit his lip.

"Well, Kurt, I think you need that right now. You ned a taste of what's possible, even if it breaks all the rules. Because I can see what's happening with Adam, and I don't think he's going to let this go. I wouldn't either, if I were him. But I want you to marry _me._"

Kurt peered at him through the screen. "Blaine, _I am_ marrying you."

"Yeah, and I'm so grateful, but — Kurt, I _know_ I'm not your first choice. I'm not even your second choice." He didn't seem hurt by this idea, just enthusiastically plowed on with his explanation. "You're marrying me because you're my best friend and you want to take care of me. And the only reason I'm okay with you settling with that is because — because I know what you're really going to be getting."

"What… am I really going to be getting?"

"Kurt," Blaine said, looking soulfully into his eyes, "do you trust me?"

Kurt had no idea what Blaine was getting at, but he could tell it was important, and that was enough of a reason for him to take him seriously. "Of courth I do."

"Okay. And do you promise you won't tell _anyone_ what I'm about to reveal to you?"

"Does it involve a dead body?"

"Not… exactly." He took a deep breath. "Kurt… it's Finn."

"What _about_ Finn?" Kurt said impatiently.

Blaine smiled. "Finn's alive," he whispered.

"Yeth, I know, baby… he'th always be alive in our heartths."

"No. Kurt, I mean… he's really alive. He didn't die."

Kurt's blood went cold. He licked his lips. "Um… Blaine?"

"I know it sounds crazy. I just need you to trust me. To believe me that there's a reason why I can't tell you any more." Blaine looked completely serious.

"Will... will I get to thee him?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head regretfully. "I can't see him either. That's part of the reason I can't talk about it. But it's not always going to be that way. Someday, I don't know when, but someday… he'll come back to me. To _us._ And that's why you have to marry _me,_ Kurt. You're the one who's going to keep us together while we're waiting for Finn to come back."

"Okay," he said. Kurt felt sick. He pasted on the best smile he could muster, hoping it would be enough for Blaine over Skype. "I can do that."

Blaine was overjoyed. "Yeah? You promise?"

"I promise. I think we should get thome thleep now, okay?"

"Thank you, Kurt, for listening. I love you so much."

"I love you too. G'night." Kurt made sure Blaine saw his smile before he disconnected the call. Then he leaned back in his bed, huddling his knees to his chest. He tried to stay calm, but all he could think was: _my boyfriend is actually losing his mind._


	5. Chapter 5

_(Author's note: this chapter took me all day to write, and it wrecked me. I have no other warnings, other than to suggest you have someone around to hug when you are done reading it. If you need virtual hugs, they are available at Thank you to everyone who held my hand while I wrote, and to Sara Bareilles's album Kaleidoscope Heart for soundtracking. -amy)_

* * *

**_June 2010, summer after sophomore year_**

_Finn sat on the floor beside Kurt's bookshelf, watching Kurt get ready. It made him nervous. _

_"Do you want me to go?" Finn asked, obviously not planning to go anywhere._

_"No. I don't think I'll be any less nervous if you're not here. I'm just always nervous before an audition." He held up the scarf to his shirt, discarding it immediately. "You really think I should do this?"_

_"I think Lima has one youth theater company and you should be involved," Finn said. "Even if it's a show you think is stupid, like _Free to Be You and Me_. I just…" _

_Kurt paused, watching him. "You just what?"_

_Finn shrugged. "I'll miss you while you're rehearsing."_

_Kurt had to lean in for a kiss after that, one that extended into a long embrace with Kurt in Finn's lap. "It's not like you'll be around either, not with summer school. If Noah's going to be busy with Beth most of the summer, this'll keep me busy."_

_"You know I agree with you. I'm not being all that rational." He smiled, nuzzling Kurt's nose with his own._

_"_Why is it that looking down seems so much higher than looking up?" _Kurt murmured, which made Finn laugh._

_"I recognize that." He reached a long arm up to the third shelf and grabbed the right book from the Griffin and Sabine series, flipping it open. "Are we going to read the last one? I want to find out how it ends."_

_"You might not like it," Kurt warned. "Just because they're soulmates doesn't mean they get to have a happy ending."_

_Finn shook his head, grinning. "Baby, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what that means."_

_Kurt snuggled in closer. "Yeah? You really think so?"_

_He kissed him again. "How about you let me try to prove it to you?" _

* * *

_Kurt let the door slam when he came in, making Carole look up and frown. _

_"It didn't go well?" she guessed._

_"I forgot that theater is all about who you know and only a tiny bit about how talented you are." Kurt threw his bag down with a sigh and collapsed in a chair at the table. "And that was my only opportunity for summer theater in Lima, which means my other alternative is to follow Noah and Beth around all summer and —" He stopped, picking up the envelope with _Griffin_ written on it in messy script. "What is this?"_

_"Finn left it before he went to school." Carole smiled as Kurt tore open the paper with a careful finger. "He made me check his spelling. Is this some kind of secret code? I didn't really understand it."_

_The note read simply: _It's good to get in touch with you at last. Could I have one of your fish postcards? Sabine.

_Kurt flushed, feeling the corners of his mouth bend toward his ears, hard enough to make his face sore. "It's a quote from a book we're reading together. These are the first words exchanged between the two main characters, all in letters. They become penpals, but it's clear there's something surprising and unusual between the two of them."_

_"I must say, you've been good for Finn's literary habits. He didn't read much before the two of you started going out." She watched out of the corner of her eye as he rummaged in the kitchen desk for a piece of paper and an envelope. "Are you going to write a response?"_

_"Of course I am," he said. "And I know exactly what it's going to say."_

Sabine_ (he wrote): _As dad would always say, when in doubt, play for time. -Griffin

* * *

**May 2013 (episode 5.06 Movin' Out)**

"It's really good to hear from you, Kurt," Carole said, "but Blaine's not here. I'm not sure when he'll be back, actually."

Kurt bit one of his few remaining nails. He was going to have to spend a good hour tonight filing them to make sure they were even on both sides. "I didn't really call to talk to Blaine," he admitted. "I was hoping to talk to you, or my dad. I need to know how Blaine has… been, lately?"

"How he's been? What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Has he seemed… confused? Unhappy? Lonely? Anything out of the ordinary."

Carole sighed. "Well, gosh, I don't know, Kurt. After Finn's funeral, he was a mess, but I know you wouldn't expect anything less than that. But he's gotten steadily better since then, and I think he's managing really very well. Better than I would have expected, actually."

"You see, that's what I was thinking too. He said some things to me that… made me a little worried, that's all, and I was thinking maybe he might need someone to talk to. But he said he doesn't want anyone else, that he has enough people."

"I guess I can't disagree with that…"

"Crap." Kurt groaned, gritting his teeth. "I can't handle this. Blaine made me promise not to say anything, but I don't think he really knew what he was asking. I think — Carole, I think he might be losing his grip on reality. Seriously."

There was a long pause. "Maybe I should tell you, then, that he's on the bus right now with Sam, coming to visit you before his NYADA audition. Please don't tell him I spilled the beans, okay? It was supposed to be a surprise."

"No, no, it's okay. I'd already figured it out. He's kind of crummy at keeping secrets." Kurt crumpled the note paper he'd been doodling on. "I'm scared. He's saying things that are making me think he's falling back into that imaginary world he was in at Dalton."

"You think he's trying to be Perfect Blaine again?"

Kurt thought about it. "No-oooo," he said slowly. "Not exactly like that. It's more like he's seeing what he wants to see instead of what's really there."

"That just sounds like ordinary idealism. Or immaturity. I'll watch him, though, Kurt. You know I care about him too. Do you want me to call his mother?"

"No. No, I'm not there yet. Involving his parents would just stress him out more. If we have to talk to his mother, I'll have Santana's mother do it." He sighed. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I was just hoping, you being there, you might have seen something."

"I'm sorry, I haven't. But we'll both watch more carefully. And we can look into finding Blaine a counselor, somebody to talk to."

"He won't do it if he doesn't want to, unless I tell him to. I'm not going to make him do that. I don't want to make him dwell any more in his fantasy world than he already is. Thanks anyway, Carole. Tell my dad I'll call on Friday, and I love you guys."

"We love you too, Kurt."

* * *

_December 6, 2010 _

_Dear Griffin,_

Pain and beauty, our constant bedfellows. 

_I'm not sure if this counts as composition, but today I'm going to have to pretend it does. It's about all I can concentrate on. I know you'd be the first to understand when I say I miss Carl on days like today. _

_I miss you, too, baby. You think you could come home this weekend? Jeff said he could hang out with Blaine if you want to make the drive back from Dalton. _

_It's a big empty house without you. I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty. You're doing exactly what you need to do, and I'm so proud of you and so thankful somebody from our family's there with him. It's just not the same without you here. _

_Mom and Burt (I'm not ever going to call him Dad, I swear) are being really cute. I don't think they felt bad about staying home for their honeymoon, considering how much decorating they have to do here. I told them I should pick out the lamps because I clearly have better taste than Sarah does. I think your dad just about sprayed the table with his beer when I said that. It was awesome._

_Sarah's back at school full time, I think she's doing better. I've been trying to be all big brother about her homework but she's seriously more responsible about that stuff than I am. I also don't think she notices any difference in how hard things are, even after skipping seventh grade, but I told her how much all those absences would affect her record. You think you could send her an email and talk to her? I'm not trying to make you be the Top for everybody but she actually does listen to you._

_Puck is… Puck. I wish I had good news, but it's not any better. Lauren's going to take him up north to her cabin on Half Moon Bay this weekend. Maybe a change of scenery will help. _

_I don't even know what to say about Thanksgiving, or, god, Christmas. You're not going to stay there, are you? Maybe Blaine can go to Santana's, so you can keep an eye on him here in town? I keep writing and erasing suggestions here, I'm just going to give up for now. If you or Jeff have any ideas, let me know, and I'll run them by mom and Burt._

_Dave said he's going to try to come out and see you guys on Wednesday, after Blaine's boxing class. You'll have to tell him if that interferes with Warblers stuff. I still can't believe we have to compete against you. This is seriously fucked up, baby — and I know, Glee club is the least of what's fucked up. _

_I'll mail this after Glee when I get home today. I hope you're doing better than I am. And I'll say again, you're exactly where you need to be. _

_Would you laugh if I told you to give Blaine a smack on the cheek for me? Yeah, I didn't think so. Make it a big kiss for my good boy._

_Love you both._

_Sabine _

* * *

Kurt hoped he looked sufficiently surprised when Sam and Blaine appeared at the door of their loft. He gave them a list of tourist things to do to keep them busy while he was at school and suggested they meet him at Spotlight for dinner.

_When do I get to come over?_ Adam texted him for the sixth time.

_You don't,_ Kurt informed him. _You have to realize, Sam is the one who spilled the beans on me and Finn. He doesn't have a good track record when it comes to keeping secrets._

_I'm not a secret, Kurt. I'm your bandmate, Elliot. Maybe I kind of have a crush on you. This would be your chance for Rachel and Santana to see us being friends around Blaine. _

It was amazing how his heart fluttered when he read the words _I kind of have a crush on you,_ from Adam.

_I'm just not sure I'm ready to do that around Sam,_ he told him.

It was a useless excuse. The truth was, there was nothing Kurt could do that was going to make any of this easier — other than ask Adam to use a harsher implement on him. He wasn't willing to break his confidence in Blaine, such as it was, to make life easier for himself. Adam didn't need to know the specifics of Blaine's apparent mental break. He and Blaine had always gotten along just fine, but they weren't close friends. Blaine was _Kurt's_ responsibility. And Kurt needed to gather more information before he'd know if he needed Adam's help or not.

_At least let me come watch him sing at Spotlight,_ Adam cajoled._ He is going to sing, right?_

_Fine. Hide in the back. I'll get him on the stage around 6:30 after they eat._

Which, of course, was the stupidest thing in the world he could have said, because as soon as Blaine climbed down off that stage, Adam was there in his adorable glasses, shaking Blaine's hand and "introducing himself." Blaine, for his part, did a credible job of not looking more surprised than was appropriate, and Sam did not say the words _wow, you look just like Adam Lambert,_ so Kurt decided he wouldn't have to kill himself, or Adam, yet.

"Kurt's got this shift until nine," Adam said to Blaine and Sam, "but I'd be happy to go hang out at the loft and make music with you until he gets home?"

"Hey, that would be sweet!" Sam agreed. Blaine hesitated only a moment, glancing over at Kurt.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. Don't worry about us, okay, Kurt? I don't want to be a burden on you while I'm here."

"You're not a burden," Kurt promised, squeezing both of Blaine's hands. He knew he'd repeat those words about eight thousand times before Blaine got back on the bus to return to Lima. He also knew that none of the repetitions would penetrate until he had a chance to get Blaine over his knee. Adam gave him an understanding smile and led Sam and Blaine away toward the subway.

Rachel paused beside Kurt to watch them go.

"Santana thought you were being obnoxious, pushing Blaine at the stage like that," she said, "but I thought it was sweet. He needs the encouragement. I think Sam does, too. Okay if I borrow the loft tomorrow to help him get some modeling photographs taken? The light there is so much better than anywhere else."

"I guess I can take Blaine out by myself," he replied slowly. She patted his shoulder.

"Or the three of you could go out, you and Blaine and Elliot. Let Blaine get better acquainted with him."

"Don't you _even_ start getting designs on the three of us, Rachel," he sighed. "It's really, _really_ not going to happen."

"Did I say anything about that? You haven't said yes to him yet, have you?"

Kurt flushed, thinking of how many times he'd said _yes_ to Adam in his bed, over and over, the night before at his apartment. "He keeps asking me out," he said. "I think I'm going to have to do it eventually."

"As long as Blaine's okay with it, I think you should go for it," she said. "I know how much a little sexual tension improves musical chemistry."

He glared at her. "Are you telling me you're in favor of me and Elliot getting together because of the _band?"_

"Is that such a bad thing?" Rachel was _definitely_ laughing at him now. "Don't worry about filling up the condiment containers tonight. I'll take care of that, and you can get home to see your fiancé."

* * *

_September 18, 2012_

_Dear Griffin,_

_I have loved you in every manner that my imagination could contrive. I have wanted you so deeply that my body sang with pain and pleasure. You have been my obsession, my passion, my philosophers' stone of fantasy. You are my desire, my longing, my spirit. I love you unconditionally._

_(I actually wrote that quote from my head, so I might have it a little wrong.)_

_I'm kind of pissed at you for going to New York without telling me, but you know I'll forgive you. Blaine and I will come out to visit you and Rachel really soon. _

_I talked to Mike today. It was his first day in the Joffrey Ballet. I don't even know what city that's in, is that Chicago? He sounded excited about what he was doing, but he didn't say anything about Tina. I think they broke up for real this time. He didn't invite me out to visit him either. I miss him so much. I can't even imagine what you're going through. _

_It still surprises me that we have to figure out our lives along the way, that there's no map, no rules about how things like this should be. It's not like we're the first people to try relationships like this. Why aren't there directions? It's scary as hell to think we're making this up as we go. What if we get it wrong? What if we miss crucial steps? _

_I miss you, I miss Rachel, I miss Mike. I even miss Puck, and he's been in LA for months. Blaine and I are coping kind of badly. You're always in my heart, baby._

_Sabine _

* * *

Kurt called Adam right after Blaine left for his NYADA audition.

"An actual phone call," Adam said. Kurt could hear his smile. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"I needed to hear your response." He didn't even feel guilty about getting his stuffed Ernie out, snuggling it close to his chest. "Blaine… wants to be a doctor. Or a teacher. I told him he's just anxious about getting into NYADA, and he hugged me and said _thank you for knowing me."_

"I see. And you think that's not the whole story?"

"He's afraid of not getting into NYADA, but it's more than that. Something else is happening." Kurt could feel the tears lurking just behind his eyes. "I don't even know how to say this. Adam… I think he's sick. Emotionally, mentally ill."

"Oh, honey." Adam's voice was soft. "What told you this? What have you seen?"

"He said…" Kurt choked on the words. "He said Finn is still alive. And he meant it. He really thinks he is. God, I don't even know what to do, I'm just so scared."

"It's okay," Adam soothed, "we'll figure this out, Kurt, don't be afraid. It's going to be all right. Do you want me to come over?"

Kurt blew his nose. "No, no… everybody's in the other room. I can't have you here when Sam and Santana and everybody are watching."

"All right." He waited for Kurt to calm down. "We had a really nice evening, the other night, me and Blaine and Sam. They were amazing performers. There's no way Blaine won't get into NYADA."

"I'm glad." He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and evenly. "I'm so grateful for you Adam, I'm not saying that. You're just… the wild card. Nobody expected you to come back, much less me."

"I'm here to help, honey."

Kurt cried into his arm for a few minutes before he replied, "Thank you."

"You know that means more than just listening."

"I know," Kurt whispered. "I'm… not ready to ask for that yet. I still haven't found time to do that for Blaine. But when he goes home, you can bet I'll be on your doorstep."

"That's fine. I'm not pressuring you. You know I'm not in any hurry."

Kurt shivered in his own arms. "I keep waiting for you to leave me and go home."

"Oh… honey, _no._ I'm not going anywhere."

"But you'll go on tour," he insisted. "You have other things to do. It's not like you can just stay in New York forever."

Adam sighed. "You think I have priorities larger than loving you, taking care of you?"

"Yes!" He tempered his voice, knowing the others had probably already heard him. "How could this be your priority? You're working on a new album. I'm not the only person in your life."

"Kurt… you're the _most important_ person in my life. It's just true. It's been true for years. You, and Noah… and he's got his own issues, I know, but I'm absolutely sure we can get through to him over time — I knew from that very first week, that was what I wanted. You and Noah. I still want it. You're not going to convince me it's beyond my reach, not anymore. Blaine said…" He took a long breath. "Blaine said he thinks I'm good for you. That matters."

"Blaine also said he thinks Finn is _alive_ and he's waiting for him to come back."

"Well… that's a different matter. But whatever he thinks, Kurt, he's not standing in our way."

Kurt sniffed. "He never was. But he's my fiancé."

"I know." He heard Adam take a long breath. "You don't have to give him up to have me, any more than you had to give me up to have him. Neither of us work that way. We're not adversaries. We're just two men who love you desperately. Just… let us do that, okay?"

"Okay," he whispered.

"That's… yes. Thank you. Blaine's stronger than you think he is."

Kurt put a steadying hand on the table beside him. "I know he's strong. That's not my issue. It's that Blaine thinks everything's okay when it's not. He has _no idea _that things are completely going to shit until they actually get there."

"We won't let it get there," Adam promised. _"I _won't let it get there."

"Thank you," he said, sighing. "I'm really grateful to hear that, even though it scares the crap out of me."

"You can be grateful for and scared of me at the same time, honey," he said, smiling. "That's kind of a compliment."

* * *

_February 2, 2013_

_Dear Griffin,_

_I've started to hate this city, this country, all these stupid fucking people. (It's been a while. I actually had to go back and look up the quote. The books are still in the same place on the bookshelf in Blaine's room where we left them.)_

_Thank you for the birthday present. Glee club definitely needs all the help it can get, so your offer is appreciated. Let me know when you want to come into town and do that. We're doing the Beatles next month, maybe then would be fun._

_Brad came back, did I tell you that? After Ryder asked him for help wooing the girl — who ended up being the wrong girl, but that's a longer story — I managed to get some money out of the general fund to pay for him to be our accompanist for the rest of the year. It's really nice to have him back. God, you should see the kids. Duncan is huge, and he looks exactly like a miniature Toby, it's bizarre. _

_No, I don't think Rachel's going to forgive me. You're welcome to work on her from that end, but I'm not really hoping for anything other than "fuck you, all that time you were sleeping with my father." It was a long time ago, but she knows me well enough to know I'm not over him yet. If you want to, you can tell her I'm really sorry, but I don't even know what that means, you know? Whatever, she's eighteen now and she can make her own decisions, just like I did._

_We were eating dinner last night and Sarah made asparagus, and we got into this argument about those vegetables with the leaves that you pull off, I still can't remember what they're called, and Sarah said something awful about Puck, and Blaine started crying, and it was just… one of those nights. But if you happen to talk to Puck before I do, would you tell him to call her? He wasn't answering his phone, of course. You'd think that living in the same city with him, even in the same room sometimes, would mean I'd talk to him more often, but apparently that's not the way it works. I bet Adam could make him do it, but I'm not quite ready to resort to that._

_I had a great dream about you last night, but maybe it'd be better for me to share that with you over the phone. Call me when you get this letter and I'll tell you all about it. _

_I miss you, baby. _

_We both love you,_

_Sabine_

* * *

Blaine was already under the covers when Kurt came to bed. His grateful smile and welcoming body were so much what Kurt needed, and he spent several minutes just holding him before saying anything.

"I miss my bed at home."

"I miss being in it with you," Blaine murmured, nuzzling his neck. "Some nights I sneak into your room and sleep there alone."

"Oh, yeah?" Kurt's smile widened. He sighed, nestling closer into Blaine's warmth. "I love that idea, you in my bed." _Where all of us were,_ he didn't say. "I'm glad you're there, in that house."

"It's hard sometimes." Blaine leaned back on one elbow. "All the memories. Being alone there with Sarah… I think maybe I should move back to my mom's house."

"It's up to you, honey. You only have another couple months before you graduate. I'm sure Carole and my dad would be okay with whatever you want. They love you."

"I love them." He smiled lazily. "Everyone in your family is wonderful. I feel so lucky that I get to be part of it. Some days I can't even believe I get that."

"You really get that," Kurt agreed. "It's been your family from the beginning. You belong with us."

Blaine's cheeks were pink. "I belong to you."

"That's right." He kissed Blaine's nose, making him go even redder. "You belong to me."

"And Noah," he added. "Even if he's not ready for that, right now… I know I do."

Kurt had too many memories of the way Blaine and Puck had been together to disagree. "I think there's always a chance that we could get that back."

"Yeah? You think so?" Blaine's smile was so hopeful. Kurt kissed him right in the middle of it, pressing into his mouth until he moaned.

"Mine, and Noah's," Kurt agreed, holding him close.

"And Finn's."

He couldn't help stiffening in response. He heard Blaine's soft sigh.

"You don't believe me."

"Blaine…" Kurt began, but Blaine was already shaking his head, smiling again.

"I knew you didn't. And really, I don't blame you? The police called. There was a funeral. Your family went to identify the body. All the evidence says he's dead."

Kurt didn't say _they didn't actually see his body._ Blaine didn't need any more "evidence" to feed his delusion. "Baby, I can understand why you'd _want_ to think he's still alive. I wish he were. My heart hurts for him every day. He was my Top too."

"He still is," Blaine insisted. "Kurt, you have to find a way to trust me. I can't tell you any more details. It could get all of us into big trouble. But Finn's not gone forever. He's going to come back, and he loves us all so much."

The way Blaine's face was shining, it made Kurt feel uncomfortable. He couldn't help but ask, "Blaine… this isn't a… a religious thing, is it?"

Blaine stared at him for a moment. Then he erupted into peals of laughter. It made Kurt huff in annoyance.

"The second coming of Finn Hudson?" he sputtered.

"Well, for Christ's sake, Blaine," Kurt snapped, which made Blaine laugh harder. He sat up in bed, waiting for Blaine to calm down. "It was a reasonable question."

"No, no, I get it." Blaine wiped his eyes with the corner of the sheet. "Just… I'm pretty sure Finn would roll his eyes and say _that sounds like Kurt." _He smiled, grabbing Kurt's shoulders and kissing him firmly, once. "Okay. I have one thing. Hang on."

He scrambled out of bed and padded naked across the wooden floor to his suitcase, rummaging around inside the inner pockets, until he came up with a plastic bag. From the bag he carefully withdrew two postcards and brought them back to the bed, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers across from Kurt.

"I was a little scared to take these away from home," he said, "but the fact that they let me have them to begin with means it's okay. I only have two so far, and I don't know if I'll be able to have any more."

Kurt looked at the postcards, feeling uneasy. "What are they?" he asked, although he was pretty sure he knew what Blaine was going to say.

"They're from Finn," he whispered. He clutched them to his bare chest. "The first one got him in big trouble. After… his funeral, he called me. I think he thought he was close enough to Lima to sneak out. They moved him since then. See, originally the postmark was from Fort Wayne. But then I got another one, just last week. That one's from Houston. I don't know if he's really there, or if his handlers are camouflaging his location. I wouldn't blame them if they —"

"Blaine," Kurt said, a little desperately. His hands were itching to hold the postcard. "Are you saying you _talked_ to Finn after his death?"

"I told you." Blaine sounded impatient. He pressed the first postcard into Kurt's lap. "This first one wasn't much, but it was unusual enough to make me do what he asked."

The postcard was in block print, which could have been written by anyone. Kurt had half-expected to see Finn's characteristic handwriting, and it was a disappointment to read the vague phrases: _Come to the Starbucks on Dupont off I-69 after school tomorrow._ The postmark was two weeks after Finn's death.

Kurt looked hard at Blaine. "You _went?_ It could have been a trap — you could have been in danger!"

"Kurt, it was a public place." Blaine looked a little offended. "You think I'm really that careless? I left a note for your dad and Carole about where I was and when I would be home."

He waited long enough that Kurt reached for the other postcard, but Blaine held it out of his reach.

"Was he there?" he demanded. "Blaine, you can't —"

"He was there," said Blaine. He let out a long, wistful sigh that made Kurt's heart throb. "He… well, we didn't stay in the Starbucks very long. There was a motel up the road. We agreed to meet there, and he paid cash. It seemed safe enough, but I guess it wasn't. I mean, I'm lucky he wasn't killed."

_"Killed?"_ Kurt yelped. Blaine looked around nervously, and Kurt dropped his voice to a whisper. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Kurt, when Finn went into the Army senior year? It was part of a much more extensive plan. I mean, did you even know he was taking classes at the university while he was in high school? I sure as hell didn't."

"Finn?" Kurt licked his lips, eyeing the second postcard. It had the same block print as the first one did, but there were more words. It didn't say FINN or BLAINE on it anywhere he could see. "Finn barely got into college."

"That's what I thought, too. And then when I went to the registrar's office to ask about his postmortem records…" He looked meaningfully at Kurt, tapping his leg. "They didn't have any record of him as a student _after June 2012. _But he took classes earlier that year, winter and spring semester. And did pretty well, too."

"You're saying he wasn't a student in 2013?" Kurt's head was already spinning. He was not going to grab for the card. "But he was living in the dorm."

"Well, so was Puck. Kurt, it's more than that. Finn explained as much as he could." Blaine was huddling closer, seeking contact, and Kurt wasn't going to deny him that. "He didn't drop out of basic training. He finished it, and he stayed in the Army. But he had a new CO, someone who was training him to do other things. Secret things."

Kurt shook his head, feeling the words buzzing around him like mosquitoes. "Blaine, this is — impossible. First of all, Finn wouldn't do something like this without telling us."

"He wasn't allowed to," Blaine said. "The kind of training he was doing was for some kind of undercover group. I don't know all the details, but… Finn wasn't joking, Kurt. He continued training through the summer, and the whole time he was working with Glee club. He had to keep it from Puck, from me, from his mom." His voice was pained. "I think it really hurt him to do that."

Kurt shook his head again, harder. He couldn't sit there and listen to this… this _crap,_ come out of Blaine's perfect, gullible mouth. He threw the covers back and stood up, walking across the room to his dressing table and putting on his robe.

"Kurt," Blaine said. "He saw something. While working, he saw something… dangerous."

"You know, I can see why you'd believe a story like this," Kurt said. He tied the tie on his robe, jerking it closed, but the knot didn't stay, and he had to fumble for it again. It pissed him off. The whole conversation was _pissing him off. _ "You would have believed anything Finn told you. No wonder he came to you and not me."

Blaine stared up at him, eyes wide. "Oh, no no no," he said, reaching for Kurt, "baby, no, that's not how it was…"

"I can't," he said sharply, holding up both hands out of Blaine's reach. Blaine stopped short, dropping his hands to his knees. "I just — I can't. Please."

"If you won't listen to me, at least read the postcard," Blaine tried. But Kurt was done listening. His heart was racing double time. He thought if he stayed in that room with all the lies and deception for one more minute, he was going to be sick.

"I don't know what's going on, Blaine, but it's pretty obvious you've been pulled into a hoax. That's what this is. A scam. Whatever Finn was involved in, this isn't him. Finn's not in the Army, okay? He was helping with Glee club, and going to school to become a teacher, and then he _died. _He _died,_ Blaine, and — and we can't pretend to hang on to him just because we don't think we can go on without him — "

"Kurt," Blaine sighed, but that was all Kurt was going to stick around for. He wasn't going to listen to _Blaine_ talking to him with that kind of reproach and disappointment. Not _Blaine._

He turned and headed for the front door. He heard Blaine get out of bed and follow him, but he'd already slipped on his boots and his coat and was halfway down the hallway.

It was a warm enough night that he could have left his coat at home, if he'd been wearing clothes, but by the time Kurt reached the corner of Central and Linden, he was shivering. He recognized this reaction. He'd seen it in Blaine and Puck, and all the boys he'd dealt with at Dalton, enough times.

_I'm in shock, _he thought vaguely, slowing down as he passed the playground. He reached out for the chain-link fence and hung on, breathing hard, and swallowed bile.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn't reach for it until he'd made his way to the bench next to the bus stop and taken a seat. It was from Adam.

_Tell me where you are._

Kurt's initial reaction made him laugh. _Fuck you,_ he would have said, if Adam had been right there. _Fuck. You._ It was classic brat talk. He would never have let anybody get away with that.

_I'm so scared,_ he replied instead. As soon as the words left his fingertips, he began to shake.

_I'm coming to get you, honey. Just tell me where you are._

_Heckscher playground on Linden, northeast of Central. _

_Okay. I'm going to call Blaine and then I'm bringing the car to pick you up. Can you wait right there?_

He hid his face in his arms, rocking there for thirty seconds before replying. _Okay._

_That's my good boy._

The words ripped out of his throat, loud and absolute, ringing against the empty sidewalk. "I'm _Finn's."_

God. Where had that come from?

With clumsy thumbs, he tapped out a reply. _Thank you. _Then he huddled there on the bench, shivering in his coat, waiting for the yellow Mustang to appear and take him home.

* * *

Adam didn't ask where he wanted to go. He took him right back to the loft, holding his arm like he was an invalid and leading him up the stairs to where Blaine was waiting. Blaine's eyes were red and his face was streaked with tears, but Kurt couldn't find any patience inside himself to deal with him.

"God, Kurt," Blaine said, reaching for him, but Kurt shook his head, turning away. It was as though Kurt had slapped him.

"Blaine, would you get Kurt a glass of water?" Adam said calmly. He took Kurt over to the couch and pressed firmly on his shoulder, making him sit down. Then he crouched in front of him, touching Kurt's chin until he looked at him. "Do you want Rachel and Santana to be part of this?"

Kurt shook his head. "I can't — I don't want to deal with explaining. I can't."

"All right, honey. That's fine. It just means we need to stay quiet." He glanced at the kitchen, where Blaine was waiting anxiously with the water. "Can we move this to your bed?"

He was already reaching for Kurt's hand. Kurt slipped his fingers into Adam's palm, feeling the solidity of it, the warm reliability of Adam, holding him up. He looked up at Blaine, then back to Adam, and nodded.

"Okay. Blaine?" Adam indicated the lamp, and Blaine followed his nod, turning off the lights in the family room and locking the front door.

"Did you park on Linden?" he asked, trying not to let his voice shake. "They'll tow the Mustang if you leave it there overnight."

"It's in a safe place." Adam was taking off his coat, leaving it draped over the chair by his dressing table. When he reached for Kurt's robe, Kurt felt himself flinch, and Adam stopped. "Blaine, would you please help Kurt get ready for bed?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, stepping in. "He — we already brushed our teeth." He watched Kurt, divesting him of his robe and shoes with uncertain care. "Are you going to… I mean, should I —?"

"Go ahead and get into bed with him," Adam said, nodding. His face was calm and closed. "I'm not going anywhere, but this is your bed. I'll wait while you get settled."

Kurt felt the warm weight of Blaine draped across him, under the blanket. He pulled him in closer, listening to his heartbeat, the rhythm of his breath. Over Blaine's head, he looked up at Adam.

"Adam," he said, then stopped.

"We don't have to talk about this right now," Adam said, reaching to switch off the light, but Kurt shot out a hand and grabbed his wrist. Adam and Blaine both jerked back, staring at him.

"I — think I do." He sounded like he was apologizing, and he sighed, feeling frustrated with himself for not being able to get on top of this. "I think I'm going to have to find some resolution, before I can sleep."

"Kurt, there's no resolution here," Adam said. "You're going to have to trust your heart, one way or the other."

_Trust my heart. _He laughed, on the edge of hysteria. _My heart has no fucking idea what's going on._

But in the moment, with Blaine plastered to him and Adam sitting calmly beside them, Kurt could feel the echoes of the first time Puck had asked him to do the same thing.

_You need him to take care of you and make everything all right,_ Puck had said._ You need him to take you out of that place where you're hurting, or angry, or scared, to a place of love, and trust, and acceptance. You need him to make you feel like you're the most important person in the world to him, and have it be true. You need him to kiss you, and hold your head still, and use his lips and tongue, and whisper in your ear how much he wants you. You need his hands on you, his words, telling you what to do, how to get what you need. You need him to fill you up, your mouth, your ass, your whole self. You need to let go, and have him there to catch you._

It was everything he'd wanted, offered up to him. As long as he was willing to trust. He'd had no reason to believe Puck when he'd said those words, but he had. He'd done it. They'd created a relationship based on nothing but a handful of wishes. It was terrifying, even now.

He opened his mouth, without any idea of what he was going to say, but the words fell out anyway.

"Before I fell in love with Finn, I'd never accepted anything on faith. Ever. And I'm afraid if I listen to what you're telling me, Blaine, that… that I'll just be giving in to a story. That I won't be listening to reason anymore. I'll be living in a world of pretend. Because I can't imagine being able to survive in a world that doesn't have Finn in it."

"I know," Blaine said. Kurt could feel the tears pooling on his chest. He reached for the box of tissues, but Adam was already tucking a handkerchief into Blaine's hand. "And I'm sorry to make you have to deal with all of this, Kurt. I couldn't handle it on my own. I wanted you to know the truth, but… I can see how maybe it's worse, that you do. Because this is as much proof as I can give you."

"Blaine," Adam said quietly. "You said there was another postcard."

"Yeah. It's over on the dresser. But it doesn't really have anything more than I've already —" He sighed.

Adam stood, went to the dresser and picked up the postcard. He returned, settling in exactly where he'd been. "How about I read it out loud?"

"Go ahead," said Blaine. He moved the hand resting on Kurt's chest, and Kurt put his own hand up to capture it, tucking them both under his chin.

Adam held the card out in front of him. The words came out in his voice, but if he reached a little, Kurt thought he could hear Finn's voice somewhere, warm and gentle and human.

"Patrick," Adam read, "I'm somewhere new. I can't see you again, but I'm safe, and I'll make sure you are too. I promise I'll come back for you, for all of you. I don't know when. You're going to have to hang on. Tell —" He paused.

"Adam?"

He heard Adam's breathing, uneven in the quiet room. When he resumed, his voice was thick with unexpected emotion. "Tell Griffin, _As dad would always say, when in doubt, play for time._"

The bottom dropped out of Kurt's heart. "What?" he blurted.

"I'm just reading. He ends, _Love, Christopher._ That's all." Adam set the postcard on the table. "Did that mean something to you?"

Kurt had nothing to hold on to, so he wrapped his arms around Blaine as tight as they could go. Blaine just let him, the way he'd always submitted to Kurt, with grace and complete trust.

"Yeah." The word was a croak. He cleared his throat, kissing Blaine's head, and stared up at Adam. "That — Finn wrote that. Finn wrote that postcard. To Blaine, and me."

Adam nodded. Blaine sighed again, this time with contentment, and snuggled closer.

"He's out there," he said. "He's going to come back."

Kurt sought Adam's eyes, but Adam was looking at Blaine. "He is, huh?"

"Yes." Blaine's voice was the embodiment of certainty. "And we'll be here."

Adam's mouth tightened, just momentarily. He reached out and touched Blaine's head, resting his hand on his curls. Blaine didn't react, resting in Kurt's arms.

Then Adam stood up, turning off the light, and moved toward the doorway.

"I'll be on the couch," he said, "if you need anything."

Kurt was pretty sure he was talking to both of them. He watched the shadow of Adam's figure in the light of the kitchen window as he made his way into the family room.

"He could have stayed," said Blaine. He tipped his head up to look at Kurt. "I wouldn't have minded."

Kurt kissed him, feeling a surge of protectiveness. "I know, baby."

The words from the postcard — _Finn's_ words — settled in his heart, finding their own rhythm. _When in doubt, play for time._


	6. Chapter 6

_(Author's note: We've got a while to wait before RIB+ serve up some more fodder for me to subvert in season 5, but I think I should be able to fill the time adequately. Spoilers in this chapter through 5x08, and warnings for discussion of discipline and m/m sex. Thanks to Brad's appearance in 5x07, he gets to play a part too. Enjoy. -amy)_

* * *

Adam seemed to understand that Kurt didn't have anything to say to him when he called after putting Blaine and Sam back on the bus to go home. He just let him sit there, huddled in a ball in the center of his bed, making meaningless comments as Adam talked to him.

"The piano needs tuning."

"I don't care." Kurt nudged his toe out of the covers. "It's a piano; that's better than a weighted keyboard. And I think it was a very thoughtful gift."

"I didn't deny it was. But you didn't think he needed anything in return?"

"He couldn't carry a piano home on the bus."

"You know what I mean," said Adam. "I can't believe you let Blaine go home without spanking him."

"It's okay. Finn arranged for someone at home to take care of him. Blaine explained it to me, as much as he could. He won't tell me who she is, but —"

"She?" Adam laughed, which made Kurt bristle.

"I'm sure _you_ understand what being Topped by a woman is like."

"Hell, yes. But, Kurt, that's not my point. He needs _you_ to do that."

Kurt closed his eyes, burying his face deeper in the blanket. "I know. I already feel bad enough about it. I can't imagine I could find a reason to get him back to New York again quickly."

"A special occasion? Any birthdays coming up?"

"Dork. And two weeks isn't soon enough."

"Well, maybe we can figure out a performance opportunity for Pamela Lansbury."

That was an idea. Blaine might come out for that, if he asked. But Kurt was feeling just obstinate enough not to want to say so. "I guess."

"Subtle, Kurt. You know I'm not going to come over there unless you ask for it. No matter how much I think you need it."

Kurt winced. "Santana would have a field day if she found out about _that_ particular part of my personal life. No, I think it's going to have to be at your place. How's three-thirty tomorrow?"

Adam sounded positively amused. "Are you scheduling your discipline now, Mr. Hummel? Would you like valet service with that?"

Adam's refusal to get angry pissed him off even more, but he certainly wasn't going to say so. "Fine, whatever. I'll just wait until I'm desperate and then come to you, falling apart. I know you prefer me that way."

"I _prefer_ you happy and whole, Kurt, however you get there. If I never had to take a paddle to you again, I'd be okay with that. You want to let me know when you figure out a quicker, more direct route? Because I'd be thrilled."

Kurt's retort stuck in his throat, and he swallowed unexpected panic. "Really."

"Whatever you need, that's what I want to give you."

"And obviously your needs don't matter."

"Kurt." He was speaking so gently, Kurt wanted to throw the phone across the room. "I _need_ to take care of you. In a very real, completely undeniable way, you've changed me forever. I've spent years living away from you, and I'm done with that. Do you hear me?"

He lay there under his blanket, trying to keep breathing. Eventually Adam sighed.

"I'll see you on Tuesday night for rehearsal. Try not to stay up all night worrying about this."

He had to admit Adam knew him well, even after a year apart. And his idea about finding Pamela Lansbury a gig was not a bad one, either. None of those things were problematic.

It was that Kurt didn't have anybody to _talk to_ about these things. In the past, he'd always cooperated while taking care of others. With Noah, it had been Finn or Adam; with Blaine and the other boys at Dalton, it had been Finn or Jeff. Even with Mike, Tina had been there for most of it. Now he was on his own, taking care of Blaine, along with the shadow of Finn's secret presence on the horizon, and no one else who knew who Adam was. He needed advice, but there was no one to ask.

_Other than Adam._ Kurt sighed. It was the most concrete proof that Adam was right that he could ask for. As much as he was loathe to admit it, he did need him.

He sent him a text before turning off the light. _Was that a brush-off in regards to tomorrow, then?_

It was a minute or two before Adam replied. _Just waiting for you to ask._

_I'm pretty sure I already did. _

_And I'm pretty sure that wasn't actually asking. _

Kurt gritted his teeth, glaring at the screen of his phone in the dark. _I could really use a round with that leather paddle. _Before Adam could respond, he added, _Please._

_Honey. I'll see you at three-thirty. _

He was already crying by the time he read the word _honey,_ but he ignored it and stuffed his phone under his pillow, closing his eyes.

* * *

Breakfast with Rachel the next morning was somewhat amusing. Santana was, of course, still asleep, being the night owl. She was watching him from beneath her eyelashes as she carried toast and jam from the counter to the table, positively thrumming with excitement.

"So." She set down the margarine with a _thump._ "Things with Blaine are okay?"

"That's a loaded question." Kurt took a slice of toast and paid more attention to buttering it than he probably needed to do. Not for the first time, he considered how appalled Noah would be to see margarine on his table, but Rachel's vegan preferences had rubbed off on him somewhat; he didn't even mind the taste anymore. _Or maybe you've just forgotten what real butter tastes like,_ the voice in his head whispered. "I'm still wearing this ring. He kissed me at the bus stop."

"And you told him about Elliot's proposal?" Rachel pressed. At his startled look, she amended, "Not —_ a proposal._ His request. That he wants to go out with you."

"I told him right away, before he came to New York," he said truthfully. _He was the one pushing me to go out with him, actually._ "He thinks it's a good idea."

"Really?" She shook her head, smiling, and sipped her tea.

"Rachel, come on. You've been part of this, our family. You know how it works." He could feel the growly frustration under the surface, and made an effort not to let it spill out over Rachel.

"Well, yes… but I also saw how it _didn't _work with Adam Crawford. He was very sweet, but you didn't… I mean, I don't think he quite…" She wasn't blushing, but she was clearly struggling to find the right words. Kurt wasn't about to help her.

"Blaine said yes, go ahead. I said yes, thank you, to… Elliot. I don't think I'll have anything more for you until we actually go out."

"But does he _know?_" She dropped her voice to a needless whisper; nothing short of a hurricane would wake Santana in the morning. "About what _else_ you do."

"I do a lot of things, Rachel."

She snorted. "Don't make me go there, Kurt Hummel. You said we weren't going to talk about that incident again."

"_Yes,"_ he snapped, waving his toast. "Yes. Elliot and I, we talked about it."

Rachel waited while he chewed. "And?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "And… we seem to be compatible. In that respect." _Compatible._ He could barely keep from laughing. "I'm not making any promises."

"I knew it!" she crowed. "I _knew_ he was a Top. He's so sweet, but there was just something about him that reminded me of —" She closed her mouth. Kurt felt almost sorry for her.

"Actually, he's a switch, like me."

"He's a —" Her eyes got round as she assimilated that information. "Oh. You mean _you_ might—?"

_I mean I have, many times, until his bottom was pink and shiny. _He shrugged. "That would be up to him. I don't know what he wants from me." He dusted off his hands. "I'll see you after music theory."

Kurt texted Blaine while waiting for the Metro, knowing Blaine probably wouldn't get it until his American government class was over. Blaine was responsible, keeping his phone on vibrate at school and safely stored in his bag. He wouldn't be caught breaking rules unless there was a very good reason for it — or unless he was really losing control.

_Thanks for letting me know you got home safe. I'd love to have you come visit again soon. _

If it had been Noah, he would have said _I was a total brat to Adam last night,_ or _I'm really struggling to accept this business about Finn._ Not that Noah knew about Finn. Not that he would even let Kurt say the word _Finn_ in his presence without flying off the handle. He sighed, tucking his phone in his bag as he boarded the train, feeling far more lonely than he thought he should.

* * *

Adam greeted him at the door at three-thirty. The blinds were already rolled down.

"I swear, I feel like a Russian mafia agent when I come here," Kurt said, glancing nervously around. "Where are Philip's cameras?"

"If I knew, I'd be playing to them." Adam took his bag and set it aside, then opened his arms. Kurt stepped inside them without a second thought, breathing Adam's scent.

"You changed your cologne again." He stroked Adam's suede vest. "I still prefer the Dior Homme."

"I won't wear it since they changed the formula. In the meantime, I'm still looking for my next signature scent." Adam kissed his jaw. "You were very convincing this afternoon at the emergency Pamela Lansbury meeting."

"It was a very compelling dream. Us, on stage at Callbacks, Madonna… and we looked _good. _And Blaine said he would come out to see us."

"So you can give him what he needs." The kisses moved to his mouth, tipping his chin up for better access.

"God, yes. He's starting to act out at school. Tina and Jake both sent me emergency _Blaine needs a spanking_ texts, which, seriously, from them, don't mean much, but… oh." He whimpered as Adam's hand tightened on the back of his neck.

"I think it's time for you to stop talking now," Adam murmured.

* * *

Kurt got a phone call on the way home from Adam's. He didn't usually choose to talk on his phone on the Metro, but if Brad was calling him, there was probably a good reason for it.

"Hi!" He didn't have to try to sound glad to hear from Brad. "To what do I owe the pleasure in the middle of the day? Last I heard you were completely caught up in work on Gaga's new album. Which, by the way, Sarah shared the Fashion demo with me, and the piano parts are beautiful. And Blaine and Sam showed me the video of them doing Applause — that was exciting, that Gaga gave you permission to use it in prerelease! When's the album coming out?"

"I'm glad you liked it. The release was pushed back again; I don't think it'll be happening until next fall. I'm at McKinley today, actually. Will's leaning on me harder these days, the closer the kids get to Nationals, and he and Emma are even more stressed with Jordan hitting the terrible twos. She's cute, but… god, I'm realizing how lucky I was to have easy kids."

"Tell me about it," Kurt agreed. "Bethie had her moments, but she wasn't a screamer. And how's Laurie?"

"Bedrest is not agreeing with her at all. I think she's happy to have me out of the house more, but I know she walks around more than she should when I'm not there to watch her. So far the miracle baby is sticking. Cross your fingers for us, or whatever other non-deist thing you feel comfortable doing."

"I do. I am."

"Thank you. So… I'm calling about Blaine."

His disapproval was obvious in his voice. Brad had never pretended to like Blaine, but he seldom brought him up directly with any of the three of them. Kurt braced himself. "I heard from Tina and Jake, both. What have you seen?"

"Kurt, you know I don't really understand what you guys do, but… he's kind of out of control. I tried talking to him before Glee, but he wasn't even laughing at my jokes about playing online blackjack. All he wanted to do was go on about how nobody listens to him. And then he sat down in the back of the choir room and fell asleep." He paused. "I'm sorry if this is overstepping, but… he's not using again, is he?"

"No," Kurt promised. "Definitely not. After the last relapse, he promised never, _never_ again. And I believe him."

"Okay. I just wish… I don't even know what to say. I know you're all the way out there in New York, and I don't want to worry you unduly."

"Trust me, I'm worried enough all on my own. But I think it'll be okay. He's coming out again on Thursday to see my band's premiere."

"Oh, yeah?" Brad's voice brightened. "You're starting a band?"

"Um… yeah." He took a deep breath. "With Adam."

"With — _what?"_

"He moved to New York to… because he missed me. He's here taking classes at NYU under an assumed name. Elliot Gilbert." The flood of relief he felt as he said the words was staggering. "I haven't told anybody he's here except Blaine. You're the first."

"Kurt, that's amazing. I'm so happy for you. Do you think Gaga knows?"

"I don't know, but I'll ask Adam. If he told anyone he was moving, I suspect it'd be her."

"So is that why Blaine is so anxious? Because of Adam being there?"

"No, no. He's fine with Adam. I think… it's something else. He just needs some support and I haven't been giving it to him. I'm sorry he's struggling so much. Thank you for letting me know. Try to bear with him, okay? I know he's not easy to deal with when he tries to take control. He doesn't handle it well."

"No," Brad agreed. "He's still so young. And I say that with the greatest respect for you and your family, Kurt. I care about you, and I want you to make good choices, but I don't think he's ready to be married to anybody."

Kurt rested his head against the support pole of the Metro train. "No. I can understand why you'd say that. I'd just ask you to trust that we're handling things the best we can. My dad told me I get to make my own mistakes. I think Blaine needs to be able to do that, too." He coughed. "With a little supervision."

"I can give him that, at least. Do you think… I could suggest piano lessons, for the last couple months of school? Not that he needs them from me, but…"

"Oh!" Kurt was jolted upright by the shot of adrenaline. "That's a _great_ idea. Would you really do that for me?"

"I really would," Brad said. "If it would help."

"Yeah. It would, a lot. Thank you. I know you don't like him."

"Kurt, it's not that. Blaine's very sweet, but I'm a proponent of low drama in poly relationships. Blaine is… kind of a dramatic focal point. I don't think he intends to be, but it's a fact. It destabilized your triad when you started seeing him at Dalton."

Kurt smiled. "It's more complicated than that, though. He was part of things long before I went to Dalton. Noah met him first, almost a year before, at a dance club in Dayton. He had dreams about him for seven months before they met again. And then Finn met him at an open mic in Columbus, and they — started a relationship." Brad didn't need the details about how Finn had begun taking care of Blaine. "But things really started for the four of us after we did _RENT_ together in Cleveland, with Will and Toby."

"_Blaine_ was in that?" Brad was floored. "I don't even remember seeing him on stage. Why didn't I hear about any of this before now?"

"We kept it quiet all summer, because we weren't really sure what the implications were about him being with Noah and Finn. You know Noah's not a talker. And then things just got complicated." He moved toward the door. "I'm at my stop. Do you want me to talk to Blaine about piano lessons, or would you prefer to bring it up?"

"If you want to plant the idea first, that'd be best. I'd be happy to let him think he's asking me, instead of the other way around."

"Really, thank you, Brad. Please give Andi and Laurie and the kids a kiss from me."

"I will. And tell Adam I said hello? I'm so happy to hear the two of you are back together."

Kurt felt more pleased than anxious at that idea. "Yeah. I guess we are."

"He really loves you, Kurt. I know him well enough to tell you that."

"Please don't make me cry on the subway platform, Brad."

He laughed. "I'll talk to you soon. Oh, and you might ask Adam about one upcoming song on Gaga's album, _Sexxx Dreams?_ I think he gave Gaga inspiration for that one himself."

* * *

When he got home Friday night after work, Kurt made himself a cup of strong cocoa and settled down under Puck's Navajo blanket in the middle of the futon before calling Blaine. It wasn't the green couch, but it would have to do.

Blaine picked up on the second ring. "Hey."

"Blaine, I need to apologize. The way I spoke to you on the phone yesterday… that was completely uncalled for."

"You don't have to apologize for that. I missed your performance. You're allowed to be mad."

"But you don't…" Kurt trailed off.

"Don't what? Yell at your sub?" He could hear Blaine's sad smile. "Kurt, I'm not your sub. And you know you don't have to pretend I am. Not now that you know about… the postcards."

Kurt gritted his teeth. "Goddammit, Blaine, I'm not trying to pretend anything. I _love_ you. I _want_ to take care of you. You're not going to tell me you don't want that."

"I do — I really, really do. And I know I need it. But I want a best friend more. I'd rather you hurt my feelings sometimes than not be honest with me. Just be _yourself_, not some idea you have in your head about what it means to be my Top. I need one." He laughed. "God, I really proved that this week. But Kurt, you're the only one who can be my best friend. And I think… I think we're going to need each other, to get through however long we have to wait for Finn."

Kurt leaned heavily on his arm, wiping his eyes over and over with his handkerchief, until he could talk again.

"I miss… all of us," he said, hating his voice for breaking. "So much."

"Me, too, baby. Every day. I miss having all of us together." Blaine sighed. "But now you know what we're working toward, what's possible. We could have that again."

Neither of them said Noah's name, but Kurt knew Blaine hadn't given up on him, either. It made sense, considering what Blaine himself had been through. He knew firsthand that someone could go into hell and come out the other side, and that the love afterward could be as strong as ever. They'd even seen Noah do it once; it was a good bet he could do it again. Even Kurt could believe that. Noah might be furious at him, but anger was pretty close to love.

"You missed our debut," he said, "but it's not too late to let me book you a ticket to our next performance at the Williamsburg Music Hall."

"Kurt… I would really love to. I _really_ would. But I'm going to see you for your birthday, and I think we might want to save our money. We _are_ getting married, you know."

"Let me worry about my finances. I can afford a couple more JetBlue tickets and still justify the wedding package I'm going to want."

Blaine sighed. "Okay. I'm not going to argue with you."

"The hell you're not."

That made him giggle. "Not unless I'm asking for it."

"You can, you know." Kurt let his voice drop, and allowed the Voice to come through a little. "You can ask for it. You don't have to act out. I'll give you what you need."

"Oh," Blaine breathed. "… Yeah. I think I'll be getting some of that here from… my support person. She's kind of strict. I don't get away with much, and… yeah."

"That's really good to hear, honey, but you deserve to get it from me, too. I also think you need to apologize to Glee club, especially to Brad."

"I've already made a plan to do that. I, um, made you something. It's on its way in the mail."

"That's really sweet. You're still such a good boy."

Blaine hesitated. "Even if I'm not _your_ boy?"

"Even if you're not. I'm sure Finn would be very proud of you, too."

They often went through the _I miss him_ and _I miss him too_ exchange_,_ but neither of them said those words today. Kurt knew it wasn't because the missing was any less poignant. It was that they both believed there was a chance they would see him again, someday.

"Blaine?" he added. "Thank you. I… really do need a best friend."

"Yeah. I need one too. I love you so much. Your first official date with Adam is tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"I guess he'll get to find out if he likes that tongue piercing after all, huh?"

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed, as Blaine cracked up. "I can't believe _you _said that!"

"I think it felt pretty fantastic."

Kurt grinned. "Yeah, well. The truth is, he already approves. But I doubt we'll be doing any of that on our first date. Imagine what Rachel would think."

"She already likes Elliot. Don't worry, it'll be fine, whatever you do. And have fun."

Kurt was feeling a lot more relaxed after his cocoa and a rerun of _Project Runway_ when he got a text from Adam. _Okay if I come up?_

_Are you outside?_ Kurt replied.

_I'm actually right at your door. I just wanted you to have the freedom to say no._

Kurt tossed off the blanket and hurried over to the loft door, sliding it open to reveal a smiling Adam. Kurt threw his arms around him, holding him as tight as he could manage.

"Well," said Adam, clearly pleased, "that was a warmer welcome than I anticipated."

"I had a good talk with Blaine. He said some things that made me feel better." He looked up at Adam. "You're really wonderful, you know that?"

Adam's smile grew, his eyes sparkling, as he nudged Kurt backward into the loft. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He reached up and brought Adam's face down close enough to kiss it. "I hope you know how much I appreciate you being here for me."

"I think you do," Adam agreed. "And even if you don't, I know it's what you need. But it's a lot more pleasant if you enjoy it."

"I'm definitely planning to enjoy it," said Kurt, and kissed him again.

When Santana walked through the open loft door, she found them on the futon, Kurt kneeling on top of Adam. They both froze, staring at one another for several long, awkward seconds, before Santana held up a hand, turning to go.

"Forgive me, I'm just going to walk out of here and come back in on a scene with you _not_ cheating on your fiancé."

"Santana, wait," said Kurt. Santana did, though she wasn't looking at either of them.

"God, Kurt, what is this, a rerun of last Christmas? I thought you learned your lesson with Sexy Claus."

Adam nudged Kurt. "Sexy Claus?"

"It's a long story, okay," Kurt said hurriedly. "Santana, just come in here and sit down. Blaine and I have talked. He's met Elliot, and he's cool with this."

She raised an offended eyebrow. "Blaine _wants_ you to cheat on him? I don't think so."

He sighed. "How many times do we have to go over this? No lying, no hiding. That's our rule. Elliot asked me out. And I said yes. Blaine said —"

"_Blaine_ doesn't know what the hell he's talking about." Through Santana's accusing glare, Kurt could see the wobble of her jaw. "You are not going to fuck up your last remaining relationship for a pretty face, Kurt."

Adam watched her storm off into her bedroom with a bemused expression. "A pretty face? I'm not sure if I should be offended or endeared."

"It's usually both with Santana." Kurt turned to him and kissed him again, trying to look encouraging. "Let me go talk to her. You can sit on my bed."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Adam said humbly. "I'll try not to fall asleep jacking off while I wait."

Kurt reached around and smacked the side of Adam's ass, hard enough to make him exclaim. "Brat."

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Adam trailed fingers through Kurt's hair, smiling. "Do you want me to call Blaine?"

"No, I've got it. Santana's going to need to hear him saying the words _it's okay with me._ I don't think she's really all that angry at me anyway. This is about her own fears about what's going to happen if I don't take care of her childhood best friend. She knows Blaine better than anyone, and she's damn protective."

"I'm not blaming her for that." Adam gave Kurt a little push in the direction of Santana's room. "Go. I'll be a good boy."

Santana was sitting on the edge of her bed, gripping the hem of her own skirt like she might want to rip it off. She glared at Kurt.

"I know what you're going to do," she said tightly. "You're here to convince me that there's nothing wrong with what you're doing, as long as Blaine agrees to go along with it."

"No, Santana." He sat down next to her. "I'm not. I'll let Blaine do that."

"Yeah, and I'm going to trust what he says? In the last two years, you've _all_ left him at least once. You're the only one left. He would do anything you asked him to do in order to keep you."

He slid a hand over to hers, waiting for her to be ready to take it. "I love Blaine. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

"Your _friendship?_ Kurt, he's your _fiancé. _You owe him more than mother-may-I. You can't go around banging every guy who shows up just because you're lonely for Finn." She stopped, looking stricken. "God… I mean _Blaine._ I meant to say Blaine."

"No, no, Santana, it's okay. I do miss Finn, all the time. So does Blaine. We're dealing as best as we can. But this thing, with Elliot… it's less complicated than it looks. I really like him."

She grimaced. "That was obvious."

"That's not what I meant. Yes, fine; he's hot. But Elliot and Blaine have had a chance to talk, to get to know one another, and I think… it's going to be fine. Really, he's not taking advantage of me, and I'm not taking advantage of Blaine. We're all doing this with our eyes wide open." He held up his phone. "Would you just talk to him? He can tell you everything."

She closed her eyes. "Fine. Whatever."

The first thing Kurt said to Blaine when he answered the phone was, "Santana saw me and Elliot together. Would you please tell her whatever you need to tell her to make her okay with this?"

"Um… okay? Whatever I need to tell her?"

"She's convinced I'm taking advantage of you."

Blaine laughed. "I think I can settle that. Let me at her. Have fun with Elliot."

Kurt handed the phone to Santana, who was still frowning. "Are you going to freak out about us being in the other room together?"

"Probably," she snapped, putting the phone to her ear. "Blainers, what the fuck is going through your pretty-boy noggin, letting your fiancé run around on you with a guy who calls himself _Starchild?"_

Kurt left Blaine to take care of Santana. He'd known her longest, after all. Adam was waiting on his bed, still wearing all his clothes.

"We're okay," Kurt said, closing the curtain behind him. "Blaine's got this. And I think as long as you're not spanking me, I think we've got carte blanche to do what we want to do."

"You sure? Because I can go, give her a little time to get used to the idea —"

"Fuck that," Kurt declared, climbing on top of him again. "I really have nothing more to say to you until you're naked."

They kept the noise down, but it felt so good to have Adam in his very own bed again, after such a long time, Kurt didn't really care what Santana heard.

"God," he gasped, extending his toes in a delicious stretch, "why does this feel so much better when we're not sneaking around?"

"Cheating isn't one of your kinks, honey. I think if it were, you'd have been having a lot more sex." He stroked Kurt's hips tenderly, rocking into him. "I think you'll be having as much of it as you want, now."

"I think you might not be leaving this bed very often. Yes — like that, oh…"

Adam repeated the motion, smiling as Kurt responded each time. "Are you saying I might have a chance at sleeping here with you tonight?"

The idea made him groan. He clutched Adam closer, thrusting back insistently. "Fuck, yes. Just don't stop."

Adam didn't, not even after Kurt came, driving him right along the edge between pleasure and too-intense discomfort until Kurt had to beg him to stop. Then he curled Kurt into his arms, rolling them onto their sides, keeping them connected, but waiting while Kurt relaxed.

"If I get to stay here, honey," he murmured, stroking Kurt's chest as he cradled him from behind, "I can take as much time as I want to."

Adam wasn't joking, moving lazily but inexorably toward his own conclusion. Kurt was well on his way into round two, half-hard again and starting to feel lightheaded when he heard a loud, pointed throat-clearing noise outside his curtain. They both paused, looking at one another.

"Santana, this had better be important," Kurt called.

"Oh, trust me, it is," she replied. "I think you'd better come out here now. And you too… _Adam."_


End file.
